The Reservoir
by Beyond Atlantis VS 6
Summary: The team return to Atlantis from what they believe was a successful meet and greet... only one of them is missing and the others have no memory of him ever existing.


**The Reservoir**

**By Pansy Chubb**

**Introduction**

The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard had a reason to be cheerful.

"So, Ronon," he called to the big man walking a few yards ahead of him, "what are you doing on your date?"

Satedan Specialist Ronon Dex turned to face his team leader, pace slowing only a little as he walked backward through the meadow. "'S'not a date," he said, but the smirk on his face betrayed him.

Sheppard smiled innocently, then raised his eyebrows at the third member of his team. "Teyla? What did you say Banks told you again?"

Teyla Emmagen picked her way through the tall grass beside John, a smile tugging at her lips. "Amelia said Ronon invited her to join him on a run, and then in some sparring practice."

John winked at the Athosian before turning back to Ronon. "For you, big guy, that _is_ a date."

Ronon bared his teeth in a feral grin. "Yeah," he said, turning back toward the Stargate, which glinted in the sunlight a short distance away. "Guess it is."

"Well, don't let us slow you down!" John called as the runner resumed his ground-eating pace. "It's not like it's a beautiful day or anything!" He turned his gaze to the sky as Ronon began pulling away. "Great flying weather, too."

"Yes, this is a pleasant planet," Teyla agreed. "It is a shame the Valerians were not interested in trading."

"Yeah, well, maybe they'll come around." John shrugged. "At least we didn't make any enemies."

"No, the representatives were quite hospitable. I hope they will be more open to negotiation in the future."

Ahead of them, Ronon was already waiting at the DHD.

"Now, Chewie," Sheppard said lightly as Teyla began to dial, "try not to break our 'gate technician tonight." He ignored Ronon's level stare. "Stitches and cracked ribs are more of a second date thing."

Teyla laughed as the wormhole whooshed into existence. "You do not have to worry, John," she said, stepping up to join them on the Stargate's dais. "Amelia can more than take care of herself."

"Right, the kickboxing," John mused. "Maybe I should alert the infirmary that an injured and embarrassed Satedan might be visiting them tonight."

Teyla laughed again. John was still smiling innocently in the face of Ronon's glare when they stepped through to Atlantis.

"Colonel!" Richard Woolsey hurried down the 'gate room steps toward the team.

"Commander," John nodded back, "we -"

" - are three hours overdue," Woolsey interrupted.

John's smile disappeared. "What?" He looked at his watch.

"I was getting ready to send a rescue team," the bureaucrat said, frowning like a principal with a bunch of truant students. "I know protocol is to wait six hours, but considering it was _your_ team . . ." He let the statement hang in the air.

"We are sorry," Teyla apologized, looking bewildered. "We lost track of time."

"I'll say," John said, frowning at his watch.

Ronon looked nonplussed by the proceedings.

"Well," Richard said, "I suppose you'll have a good story when you brief me in one hour, so –" He stopped short, then craned his neck to look behind John.

Sheppard had the sudden suspicion that some kind of animal had followed them through the 'gate, but saw nothing when he looked. "What?"

"Where is Doctor McKay?" Woolsey asked. "Did he stay behind?"

John frowned again. "What?"

"Where's McKay?" Richard repeated with more than a hint of irritation.

Sheppard turned to Teyla, who mirrored his confused expression and shook her head.

"If this is some sort of prank," Richard huffed at the teams' blank looks, "I can assure you that it's not funny."

John looked at Ronon, who merely shrugged.

"Colonel," Woolsey demanded, "where is Rodney?!"

John turned back to the city's commander.

"Who," he asked, "is Rodney?"

***

**Act I**

Richard Woolsey paused outside his office, allowing his shoulders to slump ever so slightly as he gripped the railing and gazed at the 'gate room below. The Stargate was inactive, and it was quiet apart from the usual hustle and bustle of the technicians behind him.

But there was a tension in the air that belied the seeming normalcy. It wasn't every day that Atlantis' flagship team came home without their chief science officer – much less any memory of the man whatsoever.

The commander sighed. Straightening, he adjusted his uniform and turned toward the conference room.

"Sir?" Banks called from her station as he walked past.

"Yes, Amelia?" Richard stopped and turned toward the 'gate technician.

"Would you like me to inform you when Major Lorne's team reports back?"

"Yes, immediately," Woolsey nodded. "Good news or bad."

"Yes sir," Amelia responded. She paused before adding, "I hope it's good."

Richard gave her a small smile. "So do we all." He took a step, then turned back, his smile growing a bit more. "Regardless, I think you're going to have to cancel your date tonight."

Banks flushed and dropped her gaze. A soft murmur of laughter came from the other technicians, temporarily dispelling the tension. Amelia made an exasperated noise. "Does the whole city know about that?" she asked sheepishly.

"No," Richard shook his head. Then he added, "But just about." He continued smiling as chuckling laughter followed him toward the conference room.

The commander schooled his expression just before the Ancient doors swung open for him. Doctor Carson Beckett, Doctor Radek Zelenka, and a woman in a medical-yellow uniform sat at the long oaken table.

"Gentlemen, and lady," he added, nodding to the woman, "our flagship team has been in isolation for several hours now, and our chief science officer is missing." He took his seat as the conference room doors whooshed shut behind him. "I want some answers."

"Right." Beckett spoke first. "Well, it's taking some time, but we're running every test I can think of."

"Should I have Doctor Keller called back from P4X-278?" Woolsey asked.

"Ach, no," the Scot replied. "I daresay those poor people need her more than I do. Besides, my team is handling the workload admirably. And in addition," he added, nodding to the woman across the table from him, "I asked Doctor Hamri to conduct brief, one-on-one interviews with the colonel, Teyla, and Ronon as part of their post-mission medical checks."

Richard turned to the woman on his right. "Forgive me," he began, "but it is Doctor Fatima Hamri, correct?"

The woman nodded. "Yes. We met briefly when I arrived a few weeks ago," she responded in a mild German accent. Her complexion was dark, her hair black and close-cropped, and the flag on her uniform jacket red with a single green star in the center.

"I remember," Richard said. "I apologize that I've been too busy to get to know you properly so far."

"It's alright," she said, smiling. "If the IOA forced a new base psychologist on me without so much as asking my approval, I'd be hesitant to talk to her, too."

The bald statement left Woolsey speechless for a moment. Carson raised his eyebrows, and even Zelenka, who had been absorbed in his data pad since Richard had entered, glanced up.

"I assure you," the bureaucrat said, clearing his throat, "that is not the case." Hamri nodded, but didn't quite stop smiling. "How did the interviews go?" he asked brusquely.

"As well as can be expected," she replied. "They are understandably confused and angry."

"_I do not understand," Teyla said, her posture one of desperate calm. Hamri noticed how the Athosian purposely, almost forcefully, kept her breathing even and relaxed. "I do not know any Doctor McKay. Why is everyone asking us about him?"_

"_Look, I know you're the new shrink," Sheppard said with disdain when she interviewed him, "and you're supposed to be the one asking the questions, but what the hell is going on here?" He glared up at the isolation room windows before she could answer. "Why is my team in quarantine?" he demanded. "And will someone please tell me who the hell this McKay guy is?!"_

_As for Ronon, Fatima hadn't been able to get anything but monosyllabic answers out of the runner for the entire interview._

"Doctor?" Woolsey interrupted her reverie.

Hamri blinked and returned her gaze to the commander. "I admit that I have not yet developed a proper doctor-patient relationship with any of them, but I do not believe that they are purposely deceiving us." She shook her head. "Neither have they been through any trauma that could account for such a memory loss."

"Then what do you believe?"

Hamri spoke evenly. "That the memory of Doctor McKay has simply been blocked from their minds." She shook her head again. "That kind of mental manipulation would take days – possibly weeks – of brainwashing."

"But they were gone less than half a day."

"Correct," Fatima continued. "But I have witnessed several alien technologies during my time with the SGC that are capable of such manipulation. Therefore," she concluded, folding her hands in front of her, "it is my professional opinion that something similar was used on Colonel Sheppard and his team."

"Aye," Carson agreed, "and all their blood work has come back clean, so –"

"Wait wait wait," Richard interrupted with a hand up to pause the Scot, "how can we be sure this is even our team?" He gave them all a knowing look. "The SGC has certainly dealt with parallel universe personnel before."

"No no no," Zelenka interjected, finally bringing his nose up out of the data pad, "that is not the case in, uh, this case." He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "My team has run every sort of diagnostic on our 'gate and the one on Valeria. We have found nothing abnormal. Also," the Czech added, forestalling Woolsey's interruption, "there are no stellar phenomena in the wormhole's path that could account for such a dimensional transition."

"Besides," Carson added, "we found something interesting when we put Colonel Sheppard's team under the Ancient scanner."

"Define 'interesting,'" Woolsey said dryly as the physician stood and walked to a screen on the far wall.

Carson activated the display and pointed to the image that appeared. "This is Colonel Sheppard's brain."

Richard didn't have the medical expertise to agree or disagree, so he simply nodded.

"What you see here," the Scot continued, pointing to a darker spot, "is evidence of subdural hematomas. Bruising."

"In his brain?" Woolsey asked incredulously.

"Yes, it's the same in all of them, not unlike what you would find with a severe concussion," Beckett explained. "The trick is that the bruises are very small, and very precise. We only found them in these specific areas." He pointed again.

"The memory centers," Fatima added helpfully at Richard's blank look.

"Aye," Carson agreed. "It holds with Doctor Hamri's theory that an unknown technology is responsible."

Richard sighed and sat back in his chair. "Well, at least we know that – "

"_Excuse me, Commander Woolsey?"_ Banks interrupted over his headset.

He put a hand to his ear. "Yes?"

"_Major Lorne's team has returned."_

Richard waited a beat. When it became clear that the 'gate tech had nothing else to relate, he sighed. "Thank you, Amelia. Send him in."

"_Yes, sir."_

"I'm afraid," Woolsey said in explanation to the room at large, "that Major Lorne's team has returned without Doctor McKay."

Carson sighed, looking a little crestfallen. Radek muttered something in his native language and went back to working with his data pad. Doctor Hamri kept her features neutral, her eyes on Richard.

The doors to the conference room opened and Major Evan Lorne strode in, still in full field gear.

"Major," Woolsey said, standing. "Report."

"Sir, we got nothing," Lorne responded with a frustrated, defeated air. "And I mean _nothing_. The land is empty for miles around the 'gate. We even took the 'jumper up and did a few scans of the planet. It's like Valeria never had any human civilization at all."

"But Colonel Sheppard's team said they met with the Valerians," Hamri said, frowning.

"Well, if there was anyone on that planet before, they're gone now."

"Ah," said Zelenka, standing, "did you - ?"

"Got the last fifty addresses dialed from the Valeria DHD right here," Lorne said, holding up a data pad of his own.

"Good," Radek said, gathering up his things, "we will just need to - " He was halfway to the door before he paused to look at Woolsey. "Um, if you don't –" He gestured vaguely.

"Go," Richard said, waving him away. "You're dismissed as well, Major. And thank you."

"Sir." Lorne nodded at him, then nodded at Beckett and Hamri, before following the fast-moving Czech out of the room.

The Ancient doors stayed open, seemingly understanding that the meeting was over.

"Doctors," Richard said, addressing both physician and psychologist, "do you have anything else to report?"

Doctor Hamri shook her head, but Carson spoke.

"I do have a wee bit of good news," he offered. "The bruising seems to be temporary, and is already healing." The Scot shrugged. "It's entirely possible that Colonel Sheppard's team will regain their memories of Rodney. Gradually – over the next few weeks, perhaps."

Woolsey's smile was small and sad. "Good news, yes," he said, "but that will probably be too late to help Doctor McKay."

---

"Mister Woolsey!" Fatima called as the commander left the 'gate room.

"Yes, Doctor?" Richard replied, pausing in the hallway just outside the door.

"May I walk with you?"

"Of course." He continued his walk down the corridor with the psychologist at his side, nodding to the various personnel who passed.

When the doctor seemed hesitant to start the conversation, Richard ventured a topic. "I'm curious as to why you've chosen to wear the Moroccan flag on your uniform," he said. "Your dossier says you were raised and educated in Germany."

Hamri nodded. "My father was German. He met my mother in Tangiers. When I was young, he moved us to Stuttgart."

The psychologist's explanation ended abruptly. Woolsey sighed inwardly and tried again. "I assume there's something you want to talk about?"

"Yes," Fatima sighed, clasping her hands in front of her. "I apologize for my blunt words before." When Woolsey merely looked at her, she continued. "I find that a measure of honesty about myself helps my patients to open up about _them_selves, and sometimes I bring that technique into situations where it is inappropriate."

"Such as calling out the city's commander on his actions in front of his subordinates."

"Yes," Hamri said with a wry smile, "exactly like that."

Woolsey let the silence between them grow for about a dozen steps. Hamri was half a head shorter than he, and he watched her out of the corner of his eye as they walked. Finally, he spoke. "I appreciate your honesty," he said, making eye contact to show his sincerity, "and accept your apology."

Fatima smiled gratefully. "I just wanted you to know that _I_ know that the circumstances surrounding my assignment were . . . not ideal."

"And I do know how difficult it is to fit in here as a new arrival." Richard returned the smile. "I'm sure you'll start making friends in no time."

"But in the meantime," Hamri replied as they came to a transporter, "I'd like to take an active role in helping Colonel Sheppard's team."

Richard waved the transporter doors open. "I thought you might," he said as they stepped inside the alcove. "In fact, that's where I'm headed." He punched a spot on the wall map.

"To the infirmary?"

"Now that we know Colonel Sheppard and his team aren't a security threat," the commander said as the doors slid shut, "I have to break the news to them." A flash of light, and the doors opened on the medical wing. "To be honest, I would appreciate any help you could give in the matter."

"Of course," Fatima said as they stepped out. "I imagine Colonel Sheppard will not take the news well."

"No," Richard sighed as they reached the infirmary, "no, he won't."

---

"_What?!_" Sheppard's bark was so loud that Fatima swore the isolation room windows rattled. "Somebody _bruised_ our _brains?!_"

"Please, Colonel," Woolsey said, raising his hands in placation, "there's no need to shout –"

"No?" John spat back icily. "Somebody went digging through my brain and made me _forget_ one of my _team_ and you -"

"John," Teyla said, her voice soft as she laid a hand on the pilot's arm. Hamri could tell that the Athosian was seething under the calm façade, but her quiet actions somehow interrupted the soldier's rant. Sheppard looked at her, crossed his arms, and turned to Woolsey and Hamri, stone-faced.

Fatima filed that bit of interaction away for later reference. "Can you describe your visit to Valeria?" she asked. "Did anything odd happen?"

John and Teyla looked at each other. When John just shrugged, Teyla answered, "No. I cannot think of anything strange."

"Ronon," Woolsey called, "what about you?"

The big runner had been pacing at the back of the room since the commander had broken the news, reminding Fatima strongly of a tiger in its cage. The Satedan paused long enough to shake his head and grunt a negative before resuming his stride.

"All right," Hamri said patiently. "Why don't you describe what you do remember."

"Start at the beginning," Richard added, "when you arrived on Valeria."

John straightened, letting his arms fall to his sides as he subconsciously took on a pose fitting a report to a superior officer. "We arrived at Valerian dawn, about oh-eight-hundred Atlantis time. We walked three miles through the grassland surrounding the Stargate until we reached the Valerian outpost."

"Who is 'we'?" Hamri prompted.

"Ronon, Teyla, and myself," John answered, a bit uncomfortably. "At least, that's who I remember." He fixed Woolsey with a stare. "McKay was with us too, wasn't he?"

Richard nodded, but Fatima spoke before he could say anything. "This outpost – describe it."

"The majority of the Valerian population lives near the forest, about twenty miles from the 'gate," Teyla replied. "The outpost is a small group of simple dwellings, which they use for trade negotiations. We met Cador and Emadara there."

"Cador and Emadara?" Richard echoed.

"The Valerians' representatives," John said. "Cador was the leader – early thirties, maybe. Seemed a pretty average guy to me."

"Emadara was a young woman, pretty and a little shy," Teyla added. "Cador said he was training her in the art of negotiation."

"Yeah," John agreed. "Couldn't have been more than eighteen years old."

"All right," Hamri conceded. "How did the negotiations proceed?"

"After we exchanged greetings, they invited us into one of the buildings to share some tea." Teyla shrugged. "We accepted, and then began discussing trade."

"But they weren't interested," John interjected. "Nice people, but obviously not looking for new trading partners." He crossed his arms again. "So we said goodbye and headed back to the 'gate."

"And that's all you remember?" Woolsey asked.

Teyla nodded.

"Yeah," Sheppard agreed. "Except that's not all that happened, is it? Because somehow we lost a goddamn team member along the way!"

Fatima cut off the colonel's outburst with a question. "Did they say why they didn't want to trade?"

"What?" John furrowed his brow.

"Cador and Emadara," Hamri elaborated. "Why didn't they want to trade?"

Sheppard turned to Teyla, who wore her own look of confusion. "They . . . " she began, then trailed off.

"Weren't interested," Ronon finished, speaking for the first time from across the room.

"Yes," Teyla said, turning to Fatima. "They were not interested. But . . . I do not remember why."

"Can you remember any details at all about the talks?" Hamri pressed.

Sheppard took a deep breath and put his hands on his hips. "No," he said, then added quietly, "Damn it." At normal volume, he said, "That's when whatever happened . . . happened, didn't it?"

"It certainly seems that your minds are suppressing that information for some reason."

"So what are we gonna do about it?" Ronon growled, stalking toward the group and standing next to Teyla.

"There is some good news," Woolsey piped up hopefully. "Doctor Beckett believes your memory loss is only temporary, and that your memories of Doctor McKay will return within a few weeks time."

"Oh, great!" John feigned relief. "Meanwhile, I've got a teammate who-knows-where in Pegasus that I didn't even know I left behind!"

Woolsey measured his words. "Major Lorne's team searched Valeria and brought back the last fifty addresses dialed by their DHD. Doctor Zelenka is analyzing them now."

"And how long will that take?"

"Well, we don't have an exact timeframe for – "

"Then it's not good enough!" John exploded, clenching his fists and beginning his own pacing about the room.

"Richard," Teyla spoke from where she had been deep in thought, "is there no way we can recover our memories?" She looked to John and Ronon. "It may help us locate Doctor McKay."

"I've already looked into requisitioning some of the alien technologies capable of memory manipulation and recovery from the SGC," he answered, "but I'm afraid it will require an awful lot of red tape."

John growled in frustration and ran a hand through his hair. Teyla took a deep breath, and Ronon stared at the city's commander as if the situation were all his fault.

"Is there nothing we can do?" the Athosian asked.

"Actually," Fatima spoke hesitantly as all eyes turned to her, "I have an idea."

---

"Kate Heightmeyer used hypnosis on me," Teyla said to Doctor Hamri as Carson set up the heart monitor next to the infirmary bed. "Will this be a similar experience?"

"In some ways," Fatima said carefully. "She was trying to help you awaken your mental connection to the Wraith, correct?"

Teyla nodded.

"Aye," Carson piped up as he finished fiddling with the controls. "It was a successful session."

"Carson," Teyla said wryly, "the Wraith gained control of me and I struck you in the face."

"Aye," Carson said again, nonplussed. "Didn't I just say it was a successful session?" He gave her a wink.

Fatima smiled. "We will hopefully avoid anything so drastic this time." She looked over her shoulder. Sheppard and Lorne were discussing something quietly in the corner while Ronon leaned imposingly against the wall near them. "I think we're about ready to begin."

"All right then!" Beckett clapped his hands and gestured to the bed. "Teyla, lass, up you go."

Fatima reached out a hand to block the other woman. "No, Carson, I'm sorry," she said. "I was unclear – Teyla is not the one I will be hypnotizing today."

The Scot furrowed his brow. "Then, who –"

"Doc," Sheppard called, finishing his conversation and making his way toward them. Lorne disappeared out the infirmary door, but Ronon followed the colonel. "We about ready to start?"

"Yes, but –"

"Good," John said, shifting his attention to Hamri. "I want it to be me."

Carson and Teyla looked taken aback by the news. Ronon, however, didn't bat an eye.

"John," Teyla said, "are you sure – "

"Yeah," the pilot cut her off. "My team, my missing man." He looked her in the eye. "My responsibility."

Carson's face still betrayed his surprise. "All right," he conceded. "Go on and lie down, then. I just need to make an adjustment to the sedative level." The physician raised an eyebrow at Hamri, and she walked with him to the cupboard across the room as Teyla and Ronon helped their team leader get settled.

"Nice call," Beckett said softly as he measured out the medication. "How did you know?"

Fatima chuckled just as softly. "I have worked with soldiers a very long time," she said simply.

---

"Colonel Sheppard," Fatima said, keeping her voice calm and level. "Tell us what happened when you arrived on Valeria. What do you see?"

The infirmary lights had been dimmed, and Ronon and Teyla stood in the shadows off to the psychologist's side. Doctor Beckett sat beside the bed, quietly monitoring the colonel's vitals.

Colonel Sheppard looked, for all intents and purposes, as if he were asleep. His breathing was deep and even, his eyes closed, and his limbs relaxed. It had taken Fatima quite a while to get him into this state – the soldier was _not_ one to let his guard down easily – but with patience and the help of Beckett's mild sedative, she had finally completed his descent into the trance.

When Sheppard spoke, his voice was as relaxed as his body. "A big meadow," he began. "It's early morning. No clouds. Gonna be great flying weather." His lips quirked in a tiny smile.

"Who is with you?"

"Ronon, Teyla . . ." The smile disappeared. "And a man . . ."

"Describe him."

"_Great," Rodney said the moment the wormhole disengaged behind him. "Look at all this grass! How far is the outpost again?"_

"_Just a few miles, McKay," John said, slipping on his sunglasses. Ronon and Teyla were already walking toward the distant tree line. "No sweat."_

"_Easy for you to say," Rodney griped as he stepped off the 'gate's dais. "Do you have any idea how much pollen you inhale with each breath in a place like this?"_

"_Do you?"_

_Rodney scowled. "It's a lot, okay? More than enough to trigger an acute hay fever attack. But we couldn't take the 'jumper, oh no! 'A little exercise, McKay,' you said, as if you didn't already make me go running with you three times a week. And mind you, that's three times a week I could be doing something important, like improving the city's defenses, or researching the Ancient database, or any number of other projects that Zelenka will probably blow up in my absence . . ."_

"He's really loud," John said simply.

Fatima caught Beckett's amused smile.

"What happened next?"

"We walked to the outpost. The Valerians met us." Sheppard shifted slightly on the bed. "We drank tea."

"_Are you sure there's no citrus in this?" Rodney asked as Emadara handed him a cup. "Because this will end very badly if you're wrong."_

"_It's fine, McKay," John said, taking a sip of his own tea. It reminded him of chamomile. He smiled at Emadara, who shyly averted her eyes as she went to the other side of the table to serve Ronon and Teyla. She was a tall girl, thin and pale, with long white-blonde hair and blue eyes._

"_Just drink the damn tea, McKay," John muttered out of the corner of his mouth._

"_Fine," Rodney huffed, sniffing experimentally at the cup. "But if I die from anaphylactic shock, I want my tombstone to say, 'It's Sheppard's fault.'"_

_John pasted on a smile as Cador finished the pleasantries he'd been exchanging with Teyla and took his seat at the head of the table. He was about Sheppard's height, with a ruffled mop-top of wavy brown hair that made him look younger than he was._

"_Again, thank you for joining us," the Valerian said. Emadara took her own seat quietly next to him, eyes still avoiding the Lanteans. "Tell us – what have you to trade?"_

"Teyla did the negotiating, 'cause I'm not very good at it," John continued. Hamri sneaked a glance at the two Pegasus natives behind her, but neither was letting any emotion show. Sheppard frowned. "Cador talked a lot."

"Describe him."

"He keeps droning on and on." Again, John shifted uncomfortably on the bed. "And . . ."

"Yes?" Fatima prompted. "And?"

"And . . . something's wrong."

_Rodney's soft snore jerked John from his reverie. He'd known that his team – excluding the ever diplomatic Teyla – had been zoning out Cador's words, but he didn't think the slumped scientist would actually fall asleep._

"_McKay," he hissed, turning to elbow the physicist. Instead, the room spun around him, and he had to grip the edge of the table to keep from falling out of his chair._

_Cador's droning voice stopped abruptly. Sheppard managed to focus enough on the Valerians to see that both of them were watching his team intently._

"_Cador," Teyla said, and John heard a slur in her voice, "what . . . what is . . ." The Athosian tried to stand, but Emadara put a hand on her shoulder._

"_You should stay seated," the younger Valerian said gently. Teyla's legs buckled, and she sat heavily._

_Ronon was more successful in getting to his feet, drawing his blaster as he did so. But Cador, moving with what seemed like supernatural quickness to John, knocked it out of the Satedan's hand before the big guy could even aim._

_Sheppard tried to draw his own sidearm, but it felt like his limbs were moving through molasses. Across from him, Ronon lost his balance and went crashing to the floor. John saw him try to get up once, twice, before he finally lay still._

_John made it halfway to his feet, fingers still fumbling with the clasp on his holster, before vertigo hit and sent him stumbling. His shoulder hit the wall behind him, and he slid down in a slump._

_The room seemed very far away now, and John watched through clouded vision as Emadara guided the limp Teyla to rest on the table, head pillowed on her arms._

"_That was unacceptable, Dara!" Cador snapped suddenly. "You didn't brew the tea nearly strong enough! This one almost shot me!" He gestured angrily at the prone Ronon._

"_I – " the girl said, clasping her hands nervously, "I'm sorry, but – " She suddenly balled her hands into fists and dropped her arms to her sides, raising herself to her full height and looking the older Valerian in the eye. "But if you had gotten me the extra bara root I asked for, I would not have had to be so sparing with what little I did have!"_

"_Stop complaining," Cador sneered. "I will get you more tomorrow," he said, moving toward the still-snoring McKay. "The others will be here soon. Help me move him."_

_The two Valerians began to lift the scientist under his lax arms, and John's eyes slid shut, and darkness took him._

"They took him!" John shouted.

"Colonel!" Hamri called, trying to be heard over the frantic beeping of the heart monitor. "Colonel, listen to me!"

The pilot's eyes were open, staring at nothing, as he tried to sit up. Beckett held his arm on one side, Ronon on the other.

"Bring him out," Fatima heard Teyla's voice at her ear. "Wake him up now!"

"No!" John shouted as he struggled.

"Colonel, I'm going to count backward from three," Hamri said quickly. "When I get to one, you will be fully awake again, calm and rested." She completed the countdown as fast as she dared.

John stopped struggling. His eyes focused again. He looked at Beckett and Ronon. "They took him," he repeated, slumping backward in exhaustion. "They took him and we didn't even know."

Carson and Ronon let go as the pilot closed his eyes again. Fatima took a deep breath and looked at Teyla, whose breaths were coming nearly as fast as Sheppard's.

The sudden silence was broken by a voice from the shadows near the door.

"So," Woolsey said, stepping forward, "one mystery solved." Everyone but John turned to the commander. "But," he added, "where is Doctor McKay now?"

---

Down a white hallway, in a white room under a white light, Rodney McKay woke up. The surface under his back was hard, and his newly conscious brain briefly registered a series of straps holding him down.

"I'm sorry, Doctor McKay," said a disembodied voice from somewhere in the room, "but we need you to be conscious for this part, to make sure the nerve endings have connected properly."

Before he could even think about speaking, a white pain shot through him, and his scream echoed down the corridors.

**Act II**

When McKay woke again, he was still in a plain room with white walls and no windows, but the bed he was on was soft and he was not strapped down.

He jerked upright. Looking down, he grimaced at the sturdy brown pants and tan tunic he was wearing. Scanning the room, he saw a small table against one wall and a simple wardrobe on another with a door next to it.

"Right," he muttered to himself, rubbing his sore wrists. "Let's see if – what the hell?"

He looked down at his arms. Encircling each of his wrists, about two inches in width, was a silver-blue metal band. Delicate lines of light pulsed around the edges, and when he looked closer, Rodney could make out miniscule wires and crystals, glowing with energy.

"I repeat," Rodney said, louder into the empty room, "what the hell!" He traced a finger along one of the bands, looking for a clasp of some sort.

"They do not come off easily," said a voice from behind him.

"Yah!" Rodney jumped about two feet in the air. He leapt off the bed and whirled around.

A tall man, perhaps in his late-fifties, regarded the physicist with bemusement from a chair near the head of the bed. "They are communication devices," he said, nodding at the metal bands, "and also capable of tracking one's movements throughout the Reservoir."

"Oh, really?" Rodney spat, still trying to bring his heart rate down. "'Cause they look an awful lot like shackles to me!"

The man nodded. The little hair he had left was blonde, sticking out at odd angles, but his blue-eyed gaze didn't waver. "Yes," he said frankly. "They are that, too. But only when necessary."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Rodney demanded, nervously holding his ground as the older man stood and approached him.

"I am Garrad," he said, avoiding the physicist's question. Except for the lack of metal wrist bands, he was dressed the same as Rodney, but with a large metal and crystal pendant around his neck. "Welcome to the Reservoir."

"What have you done with my team?" McKay fired back, crossing his arms.

"Your team is fine," Garrad said, his tone reminding Rodney of an assuring fatherly figure. "They left you with us and returned to your world some time ago."

"What?" Rodney's defensive stance melted a little. "Why . . . when will they be back?"

Garrad crinkled his brow. "They will not be coming back to the Reservoir."

McKay stuck out his chin again. "You're lying," he said, with all the confidence he could muster. "You're a liar _and_ a kidnapper."

To Rodney's surprise, Garrad laughed. "You think so? It matters not. You are part of the Reservoir now."

Rodney shook his head. "Okay, fine," he said, annoyed. "I'll bite – what's 'the Reservoir'?"

"It is the reason you were brought here." Garrad smiled. "Would you like to see it?"

---

Rodney didn't see that he had many options at this point. Assuming that Garrad was lying about his team (which Rodney did assume, and fervently), he was better off observing these "Reservoir" people and waiting for Atlantis to find him. Especially after Garrad turned to him casually and said, "Oh, and you should know that your control bracers will give you a severe electrical shock if I send the proper signal." The Valerian ignored Rodney's squeak of protest. "Trying to leave the facility would be . . . inadvisable."

So McKay followed the older man as he led him through the corridors of the Reservoir. And before the tour was even half over, Doctor Meredith Rodney McKay, perhaps for the first time in his life, was struck speechless.

"The Reservoir is a great scientific community," Garrad said as they walked. "All the work we do here is to one purpose – the annihilation of the Wraith."

They passed impressive laboratories in every hallway, each brimming with strange technologies. Some McKay recognized as Ancient, but many others were foreign to him. His fingers itched at the sight.

"Scientists have been brought here from planets across the galaxy," Garrad continued. "The best minds of their cultures, all united here toward our common goal."

Men and women of all shapes, sizes, and colors worked in the laboratories, some conducting experiments whose purposes Rodney could only begin to guess. Many of them wore control bracers, but some wore pendants around their necks, as Garrad did.

"Thanks to the lack of interference from the outside world, the Reservoir has been able to create astounding technological devices."

McKay stared as he glimpsed each of the labs. He saw a small, disc-shaped forcefield spring to life in a scientist's hand; he saw a row of teleportation armbands, like the one Kiryk the runner had used, set out for inspection; he even saw what looked like an unmanned remote-controlled surveillance aircraft being cleaned.

Garrad spoke proudly as they passed all this. "We also have extremely effective cloaking fields that keep our limited surface installations hidden from both the Wraith and offworlders."

Rodney's face fell. Atlantis might have a harder time rescuing him than he thought. Then Garrad's words struck him. "Wait," he said, speaking for the first time in what seemed a long while, "we're underground?"

"Several levels," Garrad replied.

Before Rodney could respond, the acrid smell of burnt flesh assailed his nose. "Ugh!" he exclaimed, stepping back as two men passed by, holding what looked like an charred deer on a pole between them.

The men murmured apologies to Garrad, who nodded and gestured them onward. "The local wildlife sometimes wanders into our research experiments," Garrad explained, turning back to Rodney with a casual air. "We usually keep our defense net on a lower setting, but today we ran a test at full power, and you have just seen the results. Impressive, no?"

"Sure," Rodney said weakly, but the stench of burnt meat was still in his nose, and he felt a little sick. It was looking less and less like he could expect an easy rescue.

"You will find the great advantage to working at the Reservoir, Doctor McKay, is that we need not deal with any bureaucracy. Tell me," he said, eyeing the physicist inquisitively, "how many times have your superiors dismissed one of your projects, or cut off your resources?"

Rodney snorted. _This_ was a topic he could warm to. "Don't even get me started!" He waved a hand through the air. "Even geniuses like myself have to go through miles of red tape, funding requests and government oversight back home."

"Not here, Doctor McKay," Garrad said, excitement in his eyes. "Not here." They turned one last corner. "And now we have come to your personal lab."

Any response Rodney might have had died on his lips as he stepped into the laboratory. It was big – much larger than his lab on Atlantis. Devices and computers lined the walls, and the itching in his fingers came back. Half a dozen lab tables were spread before him, each holding a number of gadgets. McKay even thought he saw a kitchenette in one corner, complete with what looked like a cooling unit as big as a full-sized refrigerator.

It was, in a word, beautiful.

"Doctor McKay," said a female voice beside him. He snapped his mouth shut and turned to see Emadara looking at him with a positively gleeful expression on her face. "It is good to see you again. I am very much looking forward to working with you."

Rodney stepped back. "What . . . ?"

"Emadara will be your partner," Garrad explained, putting a hand on the girl's shoulder. "She is one of our best and brightest. I look forward to what you will create together." The pair looked at him eagerly.

Something inside Rodney snapped. "Okay, hold on!" He jabbed a finger at the two of them. "First, you kidnap me, separate me from my team, put me in _shackles_," he stuck the offending bands under their noses, "and then you take me on a tour of your crazy underground science wonderland?!" He took a breath and began pacing. "And now you just assume that if you put enough – enough _toys_ under my nose that I'll cave in and join you in your little _scientist slave colony?!_" He breathed heavily. "Are you insane?!"

Garrad's face remained impassive, but Emadara watched the tirade with wide-eyed awe.

"I thought . . ." Emadara began timidly, "I thought you would be happy to join our cause."

"Well, you thought wrong!"

The girl turned to Garrad. "But we need him, Garrad! He has to stay!"

"I know, Dara, and he will."

"No, he won't!" McKay fired back.

"But all the stories," Emadara said, turning back to Rodney. "They say you can fix anything. That you are a genius with no equal."

"I don't care what you've heard or what you – really? There are stories?"

"Don't worry, Dara," Garrad said. "He will come around eventually. Why don't you set up your current project, so Doctor McKay can see your work?"

The girl nodded and left the room.

McKay crossed his arms. "So now what?" he said with only a little trepidation. "Are you gonna _shock_ me until I . . . until I _invent_ stuff for you?" He shook a manacled wrist at the Valerian.

Garrad sighed. "Your control bracers will act as a two-way radio, allowing you to communicate with anyone within the Reservoir." His tone was irritatingly like that of a disappointed father. "They also act as a pass key, allowing you access to limited tools, supplies, and laboratories within the facility." He turned to leave. "As you prove your loyalty, your privileges will be expanded."

"Wait!" Rodney called, seething with anger.

"Your people are not coming for you," Garrad said firmly, cutting off the physicist's words. "You may as well get used to working here."

"You can't do this!"

"And may I remind you that the control bracers also contain locator beacons," the older man said, finally stepping outside the door. "If you try to escape," he finished ominously, "I will know."

---

"Doctor Z is still working on the 'gate addresses, sir," Lorne reported, standing at parade rest as John paced beside the infirmary bed. "We'll start organizing search teams as soon as he's got something concrete."

"Good," Sheppard said. "And keep me informed." He jerked his head toward the adjoining office space where Beckett and Hamri were discussing the latest brain scans. "Those two aren't gonna be letting us out of their sight any time soon, so report directly to me."

"Yes sir," the major said with a half-smile. When Sheppard dismissed him, Lorne nodded to both the colonel and Woolsey before striding out of the infirmary. He passed Ronon on the way, who had taken to prowling the edges of the room.

"The truth is, Colonel," Woolsey said bluntly, "there's not much we _can_ do."

"Well, we sure as hell aren't giving up!"

"I didn't mean that we would," the bureaucrat added in a placating tone. "But despite your recovered memories, we still have very limited intel."

"Should go back," Ronon said, his low voice carrying. "Maybe Lorne missed something."

"It's a possibility," Woolsey conceded without acquiescing.

"Maybe we should do more hypnosis," John said, running a hand through his hair. "Maybe Hamri can get something more out of me if we try again."

"Even so, we may still have to wait for the SGC to send –"

"They drugged us with bara root," Teyla said suddenly, staring into the middle distance. She had been sitting cross-legged on one of the infirmary beds in silent thought since the end of the hypnosis session. "That is why we cannot remember the actual memory alteration."

"Yes," Woolsey said grimly, "I'm afraid so. Which is why –"

"No," Teyla interrupted, a hint of excitement in her tone. "They used bara root!" She looked at the commander. "Bara root is used to make strong sleeping draughts. It is prized for its effectiveness."

Sheppard stared. "Yeah," he said slowly. "We kinda figured that . . ."

"She means it's hard to get," Ronon said, catching on. "Expensive, too."

"Yes!" Teyla exclaimed, jumping off the bed. "And very rare. In fact, I have only ever encountered one marketplace where it was available for purchase."

"So if we find the bara root supplier, we might be able to trace him to the Valerians," Sheppard concluded.

"Exactly!" Teyla exulted.

The team's newly infused hope was palpable. "Cador said he would get some more tomorrow," John said. "If we go to this marketplace Teyla knows, we might catch him!"

"We should leave before dawn," Ronon added. "Get there in time to stake the place out."

Three sets of eyes turned toward Woolsey in anticipation.

The bureaucrat took a breath. "It seems like an awful long shot to me," he said carefully.

"Yeah," Sheppard conceded. "But it's one we gotta take."

Richard held the team's gaze a moment longer before speaking. "I agree. But," he added hastily, "I'm sending Major Lorne's team."

John clenched his jaw. "With all due respect, sir, it's _my_ team that's a man down, and it's _my_ team that's gonna go get him."

"And it's also _your_ team that's had their memories tampered with," Woolsey frowned. "I'm afraid I can't let you out from under medical supervision." He held up a hand to cut off their sounds of protest. "I'm sorry, Colonel – but your team is on stand down until further notice."

---

McKay fumbled with the alien screwdriver; the position of his control bracers made it difficult to get the leverage he needed. He stuck his tongue out of the corner of his mouth as he probed for any kind of indentation where the tool might catch. Instead, the head slipped on the smooth surface, running off the metal and scraping a red line on the soft skin of his underarm. Rodney dropped the screwdriver with a yelp.

"They won't come off," Emadara called from across the lab. "You should stop trying or you'll hurt yourself."

"Hmm," McKay mused aloud, his back to her, "should I listen to the delusional little girl who actually thinks it's _fun_ to live in an underground prison of scientific slave labor, or should I try to remove the shackles that will introduce me to electroshock therapy when I try to escape? And notice!" he added with a raised finger, "that I said _when_, not _if_."

Emadara shook her head as she turned her attention back to the device she'd set up on the table in front of her. "No one here is a slave," she said tiredly. It was obvious some of her earlier reverence for the physicist had bled away. "Some are reluctant at first, yes, but Garrad always manages to reason with them."

"Now why does that sound so ominous?" Rodney muttered. "Just how many scientists have you kidnapped from various worlds, anyways?"

Emadara's expression turned hard. "We do what we must. The galaxy will thank us when we have utterly destroyed the Wraith."

Rodney snorted and looked over his shoulder at her. "That many, huh?"

"You will understand, in time," the Valerian said heatedly. She connected a wire and Rodney watched as a crystal in the device lit up.

Despite himself, McKay was fascinated by her work. The device was circular, made up of twisting metal bands and interspersed crystal junctions, and covered in enough wires that it looked a little like a big ring of steel wool.

"What –" Rodney found himself asking, then stopped himself. He turned abruptly away.

"What?" Emadara asked.

"Never mind," the physicist snapped.

"Fine," she said coolly. Then, "I was given this project specially." Her tone was casual, and Rodney found himself edging closer. "I am one of the few at the Reservoir who can make the Ancestors' technology work."

"You've got the gene?" Rodney said in spite of himself. Then, "That doesn't look like Ancient technology."

"It is a blend of Ancestral crystal processors, the Reservoir's own emitters, and," she paused, "Wraith organics."

"You've got Wraith tech?" The physicist lost his internal battle and came to inspect the device, which made Emadara smile. "How did you get your hands on that?"

"The Reservoir has several Wraith transmitters in its possession. When we need to test a new weapon or defense, we will call a ship to us."

"_What?!_" McKay stared at her like she'd sprouted horns. "You call the Wraith _here?!_"

"We are well protected," she answered, a bit defensively. "And how else are we to get subjects for our experiments?"

"You . . . you have actual Wraith here?" Rodney asked. "That you experiment on?"

"Yes." Emadara narrowed her eyes. "Surely, Doctor," she said testily, "you do not believe those _monsters_ deserve any sympathy or . . . or _mercy_?"

"I'm just, uh, surprised," Rodney said, evading the question. "And I can't point fingers, anyway, since my people have done their fair share of experimentation on the Wraith, but . . ." He trailed off. "It never seems to end well."

Emadara frowned and went back to work.

"Hey," McKay said suddenly, "you're not wearing control bracers." She looked up to see that he had been watching her work intently.

"No," she answered. "I have proven my loyalty to the Reservoir." She drew herself up taller and fingered a chain around her neck before bringing out the pendant necklace Rodney had seen earlier on Garrad and a few others. "This now contains my communicator and security protocols."

Rodney reached for the crystal, but she snatched it away before he could touch it. "Well," he huffed, "what makes you so loyal to the Reservoir in the first place?"

"They saved me," she said simply. "The Wraith killed my family when I was a child. Garrad brought me here and took care of me." She smiled at the memory. "He reminds me a lot of my real father." Then her features hardened and her tone turned cold. "Of course, I wanted revenge on the Wraith. So when I was old enough, I set out to learn everything the Reservoir had to offer." She shrugged. "Garrad says I'm a prodigy."

"Yeah, well, welcome to the club," Rodney muttered. "But unlike you," he added, "my people _aren't_ dead, and they _will_ want me back. So . . ." He waved a hand at her. "Go back to your toys and leave me alone." He spared one last glance at the Ancient-Wraith device before forcing himself to turn away.

"But I thought you would be able to help me increase power to these emitters," Emadara said swiftly, almost desperately. When Rodney half turned, she continued quickly. "Every time I reroute the crystals' energy, the Wraith bio-matter absorbs the charge."

"Well of course it does," McKay said scornfully. "That's how Wraith tech fixes itself. If you want to get past that, you'll have to bypass the organic receptors and create a feedback loop in the crystal processors."

Emadara looked at the circlet of wires as the solution dawned on her. "Of course . . . " she murmured, beginning to detach and reattach various bits and pieces.

"No no no, that's all wrong," Rodney said, and then his hands were brushing hers away. "Were you purposely trying to blow out the emitters? No, here, like this . . ."

Emadara watched the physicist's sure hands work, and a smile spread over her face.

"The stories were true," she whispered.

"What?" McKay asked, distracted.

"You really are a genius," she said, the awe coming back into her voice. "I have been working on this project for months," she said, almost whispering, "and you have solved it in mere minutes."

"What?" McKay asked again, this time in alarm. He seemed to realize what he was doing and hastily dropped the wires. "Uh, no," he said backing up, "I wasn't – that's not – I didn't mean –"

"Garrad," Emadara said, and McKay looked up to see her speaking into her pendant like a walkie-talkie. "You were right! Doctor McKay _is_ the smartest man in the galaxy." She grinned at him. "He has already been a tremendous help to the Reservoir."

"No, no, that's not true!" Rodney insisted. Then, as an afterthought, "I mean, that second part isn't true. That is," he babbled, "I wasn't trying to help! She tricked me!"

But he was being ignored. "Yes," Emadara was saying, "we're ready to begin testing now. We'll be up shortly." She dropped the crystal device and beamed at him.

Rodney got a sinking feeling in his gut. "Oh crap," he said despondently, "what did I do now?"

---

The image of a frowning man flashed across the laptop screen, followed by one of the same man pointing a finger at a group of frightened-looking blue-shirted scientists, which was followed by another photo of the man craning to look down at the mustard he'd just dripped onto his shirt.

Zelenka began to have second thoughts about showing Colonel Sheppard's team a slideshow of their missing teammate.

Ronon broke the silence first. "He looks soft."

"Uh, this is perhaps not the best sampling," Zelenka admitted. "The engineering department has very few pictures of him where he is not scowling." The picture changed. "Or yelling." The picture changed again. "Or talking with his mouth full."

"No, this was very thoughtful, Radek," Teyla said. She paused and tilted her head at the screen, then finished carefully. "He seems an interesting character."

"Perhaps this was a bad idea," Radek said hastily, moving to close the laptop.

"No," Sheppard said sharply, and Zelenka froze, only now realizing that the colonel had been watching the screen with a hawk's intensity.

At that moment, the slide show ended and a video began playing.

"Ah," Zelenka said, "this has been making the rounds in the science departments." He started to say more, but stopped himself.

On screen, McKay sat slumped at a lab bench, asleep and drooling heavily on the countertop. The image shook a little as whomever was holding the camera giggled.

Teyla sat up straighter. "That is my voice," she said.

Two men approached the sleeping scientist. Ronon grunted in surprise when his own dreadlocked figure entered the frame, but Sheppard remained perfectly still when he saw himself onscreen.

It was obvious where the video was going, and sure enough, the conspirators set off some loud noisemaker directly behind McKay, who startled awake, shouted, and promptly fell out of his chair.

They watched in silence as laughter filled the video, followed by Rodney's cursing.

"_I'll get you back!"_ came the voice from the laptop. _"You hear me, Sheppard?!?"_

"_Just a little team bonding, Rodney!"_ John's own laughing voice came from the speakers.

"_Cold showers for a month, I swear it! And your toilet is going to mysteriously malfunction some night! You're going to wake up covered in –"_

The recording ended abruptly.

Zelenka didn't move. The silence in the room was tangible.

"Someone got in our brains," Sheppard said softly, "and took a member of my team." He scrubbed a hand over his face.

"It's not your fault, John," Teyla responded just as softly.

Radek swallowed, afraid to break the spell by moving.

"The hell it is!" The colonel's sudden outburst made the engineer jump. "And I am _not_ gonna sit on my ass when I could damn well be _doing_ something about it!"

With that, Sheppard jumped up and stormed out of the infirmary.

Zelenka watched in awe as Ronon and Teyla also leapt to their feet. They gave each other a look – Teyla's raised eyebrow saying _I knew it wouldn't take long_ while Ronon's ferocious grin said _About damn time_ – and followed their team leader into the hallway.

Radek pushed his glasses up on his nose. "Hodně stěstí," he said quietly.

---

Fatima jumped and nearly dropped her notepad when Colonel Sheppard came storming in to Woolsey's office.

"Colonel," Woolsey said, standing from where he'd been examining Hamri's notes. "What are you doing here?"

"My team is going on this mission," the soldier replied without preamble. He put his hands on the desk and leaned toward the city commander.

Behind him, Ronon and Teyla barged into the office in a similar manner, their faces mirroring Sheppard's look of determination. Fatima found herself backing toward a corner where she could better observe their interactions.

Woolsey frowned. "I thought I made myself clear, Colonel, that I cannot allow you to – "

"Look, it makes sense, all right?" Sheppard interrupted. "My team is the only one that knows what any of the Valerians look like."

"We've got the best chance of catching them in the marketplace," Ronon said.

"And we would call back for reinforcements as soon as we had solid intel," Sheppard added quickly.

Woolsey shook his head. "Protocol clearly dictates –"

"Richard, you have surely learned in your time here," Teyla interrupted, voice calm but firm, "that following protocol is not always the best course of action."

Richard looked annoyed at being interrupted again. "I still think you all need to be under medical supervision."

"Aye, I'll second that!" said an irate brogue. Hamri turned to see Carson sweep into the office, red-faced and breathing hard, as if he'd run all the way from the infirmary.

"Just what do you think you're doing?" he demanded of his nearest patient, which happened to be Ronon. The Scot didn't seem the least bit fazed that he was lecturing a man a full head taller than him. "Back to the infirmary with the lot of you!"

"Carson," Sheppard demanded suddenly, "there's no physical reason we should be prevented from going on a mission, is there?"

"Oh, aye, I've got a list as long as my arm!"

"Carson," Teyla pleaded, "we _must_ go on this mission. We are Doctor McKay's best hope."

"And we're all healthy," Ronon added, as if that were argument enough.

The doctor sputtered. "You mean apart from the lingering subdural hematoma?!"

"Carson," John said again, and this time his voice was low. "We _need_ to do this."

"You don't _need_ to do anything, lad," Beckett fired back, crossing his arms.

Sheppard paused, and Fatima had a feeling that he was about to pull an ace from his sleeve. "I thought _you,_ Carson," the colonel said finally, "would understand what it's like to be manipulated into hurting your friends."

The silence in the room was so thick Fatima could have cut it with a knife.

The psychologist watched an interesting range of emotions play across Beckett's face. She knew the basics to his story – that he was actually a clone of the original Carson Beckett, created by the Wraith known as Michael, who had exerted some kind of control over him – but there were deeper currents here that she couldn't guess at.

All three members of Sheppard's team seemed to stare at the doctor without blinking. Woolsey's posture was tense, his back ramrod straight.

At last, Carson released a shaking breath. "There's nothing physically wrong with them," he said, looking at the floor. "There's no real need to keep them in the infirmary."

Teyla put a hand on the Scot's arm in a mixture of sympathy and gratitude. Sheppard nodded, almost imperceptibly, and turned back to Woolsey.

"As much as it delights me to hear that," Richard said dryly, "it's not their _physical_ health I'm worried about."

And suddenly, every eye in the room was on Fatima.

"Doctor Hamri," Woolsey said imperiously, "what is your opinion?"

She looked between the bureaucrat and the soldier, and suddenly the words were out of her mouth before she was completely conscious of her decision. "I think it would be beneficial to their mental health," she said in a rush. "Recovering Doctor McKay in body may help them cope with losing their memories of him." She stopped, afraid that she had overstepped her bounds.

Sheppard looked at her gratefully, then turned back to Woolsey, hope in his eyes. Teyla sent her a small, relieved smile, and Fatima even thought she saw something like respect flicker across Ronon's impassive face. Beckett, for his part, just gave her a knowing look.

When she finally looked at Woolsey, the bureaucrat's face was inscrutable. She held her breath – along with the rest of the room – and waited for an answer.

---

"You know," Richard said wryly, leaning over the balcony railing as he and Doctor Hamri watched Sheppard's team disappear through the rippling event horizon, "when I said you'd start making friends here, this is not what I meant."

---

McKay stood in the small observation room, trying not to get jostled by Garrad, Emadara, Cador, and half a dozen Reservoir scientists he didn't know. The Ancient-Wraith circlet device sat on a table near the room's single window, which took up most of one wall. Rodney assumed it opened on the experimentation area, but it was dark beyond the glass.

Garrad appeared at his side and clapped him on the shoulder. "I knew you would come around," the older man said in a jovial voice.

"Yes, well . . ." Rodney said awkwardly. "What are we testing, anyways?"

Garrad gestured to the crystal-wire device. "You are familiar with the Wraith's ability to mentally manipulate humans?" he asked. "To make them see things, and to control them?"

"Much more than I would like," McKay muttered.

"This device," Garrad continued, eyes alight, "will allow us to use that power against them."

In spite of himself, Rodney was intrigued. "Really?"

"Our only difficulty was the short range at which we could broadcast the frequency," the Valerian said. He smiled widely at Rodney. "But that is no longer a problem."

"Yeah, well, glad to help," Rodney said weakly.

"I hope you are now beginning to see the great advantages of the Reservoir, Doctor McKay," Garrad continued, waving a hand to indicate the hustle and bustle surrounding them. "As you can see, because our scientific progress is unimpeded, we have gone from theory to testing in a matter of hours."

Rodney murmured what could have been agreement, impressed despite himself.

"Garrad!" Emadara called, face flushed with excitement. "Everything is ready."

"Wonderful!" Garrad responded. The room fell silent as he crossed to the window to join the young woman. The rest of the scientists lined up to watch, and by simple virtue of the fact that Rodney refused to get out of their way, he ended up in front.

Garrad picked up the circlet device as Cador spoke from his seat at a console. "The subjects are in place, sir."

Garrad smiled down at Emadara. Then, reverently, he offered her the device.

A murmur of surprise rippled through the scientists, and Emadara's eyes went wide.

"Garrad!" Cador cried. "We expected _you_ to perform the first test."

"Emadara deserves this," the older Valerian responded with affection.

"But she hasn't worked nearly as long on this project as – as others have," Cador said heatedly, rising from his seat.

"Sit down, Cador!" Garrad snapped. After a moment, the younger man did so, seething.

Emadara was breathless. "Thank you, Garrad," she said, taking the device. "Thank you!"

"This is your victory, my dear," the fatherly Valerian said. Then, more authoritatively, "Let us begin." The lights in the room beyond the window snapped on.

Rodney jumped when he saw the Wraith, realizing a moment later that the creature was caged. Thick bars trapped it in a small space as it paced angrily, tangled white hair and tattered black coat flying.

Garrad pulled away from Emadara, giving her space. The girl took the crystal-wire device and set it on her head. It sat there like a hideous crown.

"You are about to witness the power of the Reservoir," Garrad said, and McKay realized he was speaking for his benefit.

Rodney scoffed. "Overdramatic much, are we?" But he didn't take his eyes off the glass.

Something else moved in the room beyond, and McKay realized for the first time that there was a person outside the creature's cage. Rodney's stomach turned as the figure came into the light.

It was definitely human, dressed in a plain linen shift, but its eyes . . . its eyes were dull and lifeless, staring without blinking, seeing nothing. It was completely bald, and Rodney honestly couldn't tell if it was male or female. The worst part was the ghastly line of stitches crisscrossing its skull. It looked like someone had repeatedly taken a butcher knife to the head, then gotten a clumsy three-year-old to staple the flesh back together.

"What . . . ?" Rodney asked, but his mouth was too dry to finish the question. He glanced around, but none of the scientists near him would look away from the test.

"We call it a Whisperer," Emadara answered, sounding as if she were speaking from far away. In the room beyond, the Whisperer's lips moved in tandem with the Valerian's, though Rodney could not hear if it made any sound. "To manipulate the Wraith's telepathic waves, we had to make a human brain as close to a Wraith brain as possible." Her wide-eyed, hungry gaze never left the window.

"But . . . but . . . you lobotomized a _person_!" Rodney squeaked in horror.

Garrad tore his eyes from the scene to look at Rodney. "As I have told you," he said, "we are not bound by the arbitrary rules of various societies."

McKay's retort died as Emadara raised her arm to shoulder height. Beyond the glass, the Whisperer mirrored her movements, pointing at the cage. The crystals on the crown began to glow.

The Wraith, which had been snarling, suddenly fell silent. It stared at the Whisperer, then began twisting its head from side to side, growling quietly.

"Yes," Garrad whispered. "It's working." Rodney felt the room tense with anticipation.

Without warning, the Wraith screamed and lunged at the blank-eyed human outside its cage. The bars rattled at the impact, but held fast. So the Wraith did it again. And again. And again.

"What's happening?" Rodney asked shrilly.

"It's going mad," Emadara said, and when McKay looked at her, the pure ecstasy on her face sent a chill up his spine.

Black blood began to pour from a wound on the Wraith's head where it had rammed itself into the cage wall. The sound of cracking bones echoed through the glass as the creature used its supernatural strength to body slam itself again and again. It began to claw at its eyes and scream.

Rodney was out and running down the white corridors before he'd fully registered that he'd left the room.

He skidded around a corner, found an unlocked, empty lab, and burst inside.

"C'mon, c'mon," he muttered, frantically searching through the drawers and cupboards for another screwdriver. If he was lucky, he might be able to get the bracers off before Garrad even knew he was gone.

"Aha!" he crowed, producing a wrench-like tool. He leaned over one of the lab benches and began working.

Unfortunately, luck was not on his side. _"Doctor McKay."_ Garrad's voice coming out of the shackles almost made Rodney drop the wrench. _"Doctor McKay, what are you doing?"_ When Rodney didn't answer, Garrad added, _"I take it you were not impressed by the experiment."_

"No!" Rodney burst out, feeling ridiculously like a secret service agent as he spoke into his wrist. "Well, yes," he amended, "but not in a good way! Look," he said, tone acidic, "those 'arbitrary rules of society' you were talking about? Those are called _ethics!_"

"_You still don't understand that our work here transcends moral codes."_ Garrad's voice was insistent. _"Nothing should stand in the way of scientific progress."_

"There was a time I might have agreed with you," Rodney spat, still worrying at the metal bands with the alien wrench, "but even then I had limits! I was never a – _a monster!_"

"_I see."_ A pause. _"It seems I shall have to find another way to gain your cooperation, Doctor."_ McKay's stomach dropped._ "I am sorry to have to do this."_

"I deactivated the electroshock function of my bracers!" Rodney bluffed desperately.

There was a pause from the other end. Then, _"You're lying."_

"Nope," Rodney said, "and that's a big problem for you, isn't it?" If he could just keep Garrad talking, maybe he could buy enough time to truly disable the shackles. "I have a theory," he elaborated, "that the Reservoir has no security."

"_You know that we have magnificent defenses.″_

"No no no," the physicist said dismissively. "I mean security _personnel_. Like big, beefy guards. That's why no one's burst in to get me yet, isn't it?" Rodney smiled at the silence on the other end.

"_We do not need security personnel,"_ Garrad finally answered. _"We have our defenses, and we have the bracers."_

"You don't need security, you don't need ethics – I bet you don't need safety protocols, either!" McKay said with scorn. "How many of your scientists have died in lab accidents because safety guidelines would have 'impeded' their progress?"

Garrad's silence confirmed Rodney's hunch.

"Ha!" the physicist snorted. "I can't believe I'm saying this," he said, holding one of his wrists up to the light, "but outside oversight doesn't seem so bad now, does it?"

There was a long silence. _"Doctor McKay,"_ Garrad finally replied. _"The beacon in your bracers has not moved for some time."_

"Huh?" Was that a seam in the metal? If he could just get the wrench under it . . .

"_I don't think you've disabled the bracers at all."_

"What? No, they –"

The crystals and wires under the surface of Rodney's shackles suddenly glowed with an energy so bright it hurt his eyes, and he cried out as he dropped the wrench.

Before the tool hit the countertop, electricity coursed through his body, stealing his breath, convulsing every muscle, and sending him to the floor in agony.

"_Ah,"_ he heard Garrad say as darkness descended. _"I thought not."_

**Act III**

Cador tugged the hood of his cloak closer around him to ward off the early morning chill. This planet's sun was still near the horizon, but the earlier test at the Reservoir had made him later than he'd liked, and he was eager to get back.

"Hurry up," he said irritably as the apothecary tied up the bag of bara root. Cador snatched the leather pouch away as soon as the old man had finished the knot.

"Bad morning?" the seller grumbled as he counted the Valerian's gold coins for a third time.

Cador ignored the merchant and turned away sharply, adding the drug to the shoulder bag at his side, which was already full of his earlier purchases. The marketplace was bustling with a good number of traders, and Cador turned down a side alley to avoid the crowds.

He felt more than saw that someone was following him. Preferring not to be taken unawares by a common thief, he drew out a small dagger and whirled around.

He gasped as he saw the figure of Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard step forward, silhouetted in the alley's opening.

"Drop it," the soldier said in warning, advancing with his sidearm leveled at the Valerian.

Cador promptly turned and sprinted around the corner.

Or he tried to; instead, he came face to face with Teyla, who with a few quick moves disarmed him and left him clutching his wrist in pain.

"Please, Cador," she said coolly, tossing the knife into the dirt, "it would be best if you cooperated."

Cador backed up, trying to look at both of the Lanteans at once. There was still a chance he could escape, if he –

His back hit something solid. Slowly, he turned his head and looked up.

Ronon smiled. It was not a nice smile. Cador gulped.

"Now that we've got your attention," Sheppard drawled, "you're gonna give us some answers."

---

McKay woke up.

"Ow," he groaned, keeping his eyes closed. He could feel the restraints on his arms, legs, and chest, and every muscle in his body felt sore.

"Good," said Garrad's voice from near his head. "You're awake."

"How perceptive of you." Rodney reluctantly opened his eyes. He was in another white room, strapped into what looked like a dentist's chair, surrounded by machines with blinking lights. "Oh yeah," McKay said with a sigh, squinting at the ominous claw-like device directly over his head, "that's not too creepy or anything."

Garrad didn't respond, intent on a computer screen the physicist couldn't see.

"So?" Rodney grunted, trying and failing to shift into a more comfortable position. "Is this the part where you torture me? 'Cause I think that would really cinch the whole 'mad scientist' thing you've got going here."

Garrad turned to him with a small smile, still giving off 'fatherly gentleman' vibes, which creeped McKay out even more.

"The cognizance alteration device," he said, nodding to the mechanism above the physicist's head. "My own design. One of the finer accomplishments of the Reservoir, if I do say so myself."

"Cognizance alteration?" Rodney squeaked. "Oh god – you're gonna turn me into a Wraith-brained _Night of the Living Dead_ reject, too, aren't you?!"

Garrad shook his head. "No, your mind is far too valuable for that, Doctor McKay," he said. "I'm simply going to alter your memory so that you will not be so hesitant to contribute to our work here."

It took Rodney a moment to process the statement. "_What?!_"

"Yes," Garrad said absently, returning his attention to the screen. "You are convinced your people will come for you, and as long as you hope for rescue, you will never be dedicated to the Reservoir." The Valerian sighed. "I had hoped you would decide to join us on your own, but . . ." He shrugged. "I prefer not to wait for your stubbornness to abate."

"You – you can't do that!"

"It's a rather simple process, actually," Garrad answered, misunderstanding the physicist's outburst. "But to make the change permanent, I will have to use the device at full power – which I rarely do, of course, because it is such a drain on the system." He fiddled with the computer screen readouts. "Also," he added as an afterthought, "the chances of permanent brain damage increase significantly at higher power levels."

Rodney's mind raced as he tried to sit up, but the straps held him tight. "But," he said desperately, searching for an argument, "you just said my brain was too valuable."

"I think the benefits outweigh the risks, in this case," Garrad answered, giving McKay another fatherly smile.

"You're insane, you know that?" Rodney spat.

The Valerian's kind demeanor suddenly evaporated. "Men of genius are often thought so, aren't they, Doctor?" he snapped. "And I should warn you," he added, jabbing at a button on the console in front of him, "that at full power, the process is quite painful."

"Hey!" Rodney looked up in trepidation as the device above him whirred to life.

Garrad's smile was now anything but fatherly. "So you may want to brace yourself."

---

"As soon as he shows us the entrance," Sheppard said quietly to Ronon as they followed Cador through the field, "run back to the 'gate. Tell Atlantis that the Valerians were under our damn noses the whole time."

Ronon gave John a sharp look. Ahead of them, Teyla kept Cador moving through the grass, her P-90 more than enough incentive to keep the Valerian in check. They had left the sunrise of one planet for the sunset of another, and their shadows stretched long behind them as they walked.

"Don't worry," Sheppard said at Ronon's look of protest. "There will still be plenty of bad guy ass to kick by the time you get back."

The Satedan seemed mollified. John sped up to resume his forward position with Teyla.

"John," Teyla said. When he looked at her, she jerked her chin at something in front of them.

Sheppard followed her gaze to what looked like a telephone pole silhouetted against the orange sky. When he looked again, he saw that it was perhaps twelve feet tall and made of dull gray metal. When he looked a third time, he realized that there were dozens of them, spaced widely in a gigantic circle around the field.

"Cador," he said sharply, "what are those?"

"The Reservoir's defense net," the Valerian responded with a sullen air. Since his capture, Cador's behavior had reminded John strongly of a sulking teenager. "It is currently inactive."

"How come my people didn't see it?" John demanded. They were still less than a mile from the Stargate, and there was no way Lorne would have missed the conspicuous structures on foot or from the air.

"The Reservoir's cloak," Cador answered, "which is obviously also inactive at the moment."

"You know," John said wryly as the shadow of the nearest pole reached out to meet them, "with all the great stuff you told us about this place, I expected a little more security."

Cador shrugged. "No one knows about us. We've never needed it."

"And that's another thing," John said, looking askance at the Valerian. "If this is such a scientific utopia, why doesn't anyone know about you?" He nodded back at the Stargate. "Why haven't you traded any of this technology?"

"The people of this galaxy would not know what to do with it," Cador sneered. "Only the Reservoir has the knowledge required, and we will use it when the time is right."

"You said the Reservoir was created to help the people of this galaxy," Teyla countered incredulously, "and yet you hoard technologies that could offer them protection from their enemies simply because you want to emerge as heroes in the war with the Wraith?" Her anger practically vibrated in the air.

Sheppard watched Cador finger a pendant around his neck. "Rarely, we will trade something inconsequential," he replied noncommittally. The crystal inside the necklace glowed in the rays of the rapidly disappearing sunlight.

John did a double take. Was it just a reflection, or was the crystal actually . . . ?

He didn't sense the trap until it was too late. When Cador suddenly threw himself to the ground, flattening his body against the grass, Sheppard's first thought was that the Valerian had tripped. The pilot only managed a surprised "Hey!" before the tall metal pole in front of them hummed to life.

Fortunately, Ronon had more finely honed reflexes. In one smooth move, the runner sprinted forward, planted a hand on each of his teammates' backs, and shoved.

Sheppard and Teyla went sprawling into the grass beside Cador just as a field of bluish energy burst forth from the metal pole. John felt it tickle the back of his neck, like static electricity, as it swept over them, narrowly missing the three prone figures as they pressed into the ground.

Ronon was not so lucky.

"Ronon!" Teyla screamed. The shockwave enveloped the Satedan and the big man was literally flung through the air. He landed twenty feet away, in a crumpled heap, and did not move.

The blue energy disappeared as suddenly as it had come. Teyla scrambled up and ran to her fallen teammate; John was moving to join her when the Athosian looked up. "John!" she cried, finger pointing.

Sheppard turned to see Cador racing away through the tall grass.

"Son of a bitch!" he snarled. He made to follow the Valerian, then hesitated.

"He is breathing," Teyla said, nodding to Ronon's still form. "Go!"

John had broken into a sprint before the words were completely out of her mouth.

But Cador had disappeared from view. Sheppard cursed, thinking the Valerian had activated some sort of cloak, but when he reached the spot where he'd last seen him, he instead found a large hole in the ground. Barely slowing, the lieutenant colonel leapt down a flight of narrow steps.

Sheppard raced down a short, stone-walled corridor. Cador was not slow, but he was not nearly as fit as the military man pursuing him, and John could see him standing at what looked like a pair of elevator doors at the end of the hallway.

The Valerian's pendant was glowing again. He held it near a similarly glowing control panel on the wall and the double doors slid open. Backing inside, Cador held the crystal up to his mouth. "Alert!" he cried. "Can anyone hear me?! There's –"

His words were abruptly cut off by a well-executed flying tackle.

"I don't think so!" John grunted, grabbing at the pendant as they tussled on the floor. "You're not warning anybody!"

Cador kicked at the soldier, but Sheppard twisted out of the way. The doors closed, the floor lurched, and John had a moment's surprise when he realized that they really were in an elevator after all.

The small space did not favor the untrained Valerian. Cador took a swing at John's face - which Sheppard avoided easily - before lunging for the pendant, which was still attached to the long chain around his neck. John jerked it out of reach, and the links snapped.

Cador howled, kicking out again, catching John in the ribs and sending him into the wall. John slammed into the elevator's control panel, which sparked and crackled.

Cador lunged, a lucky elbow flail catching John's jaw. Shaking it off with a grunt, Sheppard leaned back and used the younger man's momentum against him, flipping him over onto his stomach.

"I am not," he roared, grabbing a handful of Cador's hair, "in the mood!" And with that, he slammed the Valerian's head into the floor. Cador immediately went still.

John waited a few moments, catching his breath. The smoke from the fried conduits irritated his nose. When the Valerian didn't move, he checked for a pulse and thumbed open an eyelid, which elicited a groan from the semi-conscious man.

"Right," John said, wincing as he rubbed his jaw, "guess you're not gonna be much help to me now."

He picked up the dropped pendant and held it up to the busted control panel, as he'd seen Cador do, but all he got for his efforts was another round of sparking.

"Teyla," he called into his radio. "Ronon, respond. Do you read me?"

Nothing but static.

John's stomach did a little flip as the descending motion he hadn't noticed before came to a stop. The doors in front of him opened on a white corridor. It was empty, but he could hear muffled voices echoing from somewhere.

"Okay, he breathed, hoisting his P-90 as he edged into the hallway, "where are you, McKay?"

---

McKay scrunched his eyes shut in feeble preparation for the cognizance altering device to fire lasers into his brain. Or maybe the mechanism worked on some kind of omega wave principle, like the device on Ionini. It might even channel the electromagnetic field of his own body to alter his brain chemistry. It was quite fascinating, really, and Rodney would have loved to study the machine at some point when his mind was capable of anything other than the constant mantra of _I am so screwed._

"Garrad?" came a sudden female voice.

"Oh thank God!" Rodney said, opening his eyes and raising his head. "Emadara, you've got to help me!"

The young woman stood in the doorway, taking in the scene with confusion. "Garrad . . ." she repeated uncertainly.

"Dara!" Garrad responded, and was that a hint of trepidation Rodney heard? "You – you are not supposed to be here."

"I needed to discuss . . . " she trailed off. "What are you doing?"

"He's frying my brain, that's what he's doing!" McKay yelled. "You work for a mad man!"

"Be quiet!" Garrad snapped.

Emadara furrowed her brow. "You said the cognizance altering device was just an experiment." Her voice took on an accusing tone. "You said you would never use it on anyone!"

"Well I'd say you have overwhelming evidence now that the _crazy man_ lied to you!"

"Dara," Garrad said, ignoring Rodney, "you have seen how valuable Doctor McKay can be to the Reservoir." His tone became insistent. "By altering his memory, I will ensure that he continues to contribute to our cause."

"But," Emadara said uncertainly, "you could damage his brain."

"Hey," McKay demanded skeptically, "what about the part where brainwashing people is just plain _evil?_"

"Sacrifices must be made in the name of science," Garrad replied, voice hardening. "You know this. How else will we destroy the Wraith?"

"By rewriting his memories?" The girl shook her head. "That goes too far!"

"Oh, so you don't have a problem with kidnapping scientists until _brain damage_ becomes an issue?" Rodney said incredulously. "Trust me – we were way beyond '_too far_' a long time ago!"

Garrad's voice was gruff. "I will not argue with you, Dara," he said, turning back to the console.

"But," Emadara said, almost pleading, "Garrad, this is – is _wrong._"

"Yeah, that's a good argument," McKay deadpanned, "'cause, you know, he's so big on morality."

The young woman looked crestfallen. "This is why his companions left so easily, isn't it?"

"Dara, it was for the greater good."

"The _greater good_?" McKay snorted, slumping back. "Wow, I can't think of _any_ examples where _that_ kind of thinking went wrong." His head snapped back up. "Wait, what about my 'companions'?!"

The Valerians ignored him. "Garrad, you – you have crossed a line," Emadara said, voice heating.

The older Valerian looked at her. "When the Wraith are finally defeated, you will understand."

"Hey, don't ignore me! I asked you a question!"

"Surely you can reason with him!" Emadara said, face flushing in anger.

Garrad curled his lip. "Can't you see that he is impossibly hardheaded?"

"I'll take that as a compliment! And also: _did you use this thing on my team?!_" McKay's voice rose into a disbelieving shriek.

Emadara stuck out her chin. "Garrad, you should not do this."

The older Valerian broke eye contact. "I do not have time for this," he replied, and turned back to the console.

"_WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY FRIENDS?!_"

"I did them a favor!" Garrad roared, and suddenly, the older man was nose to nose with the physicist. "I removed _you_ from their memories!"

The humming of the cognizance altering device seemed very loud in the sudden silence that followed. Garrad stayed in Rodney's face, a wild gleam in his eyes, while McKay's mouth opened and closed like a fish as he searched for a reply.

Finally, Rodney uttered one word: "Why?"

Garrad crinkled his brow. "What?"

"Why?" Rodney repeated as the older man leaned back. "What was the purpose?"

Garrad seemed taken aback. "So they would leave peacefully," he said finally.

"That doesn't make sense," McKay said scornfully. "As soon as they got home, everyone would know something was wrong and come searching."

"It is demoralizing," Garrad said, though his words were stilted. "It frightens people."

"Okay, there are, like a dozen things wrong with your logic," McKay said, "the first being that it won't _frighten_ my team – it'll _piss them off._" Rodney closed his eyes as if the stupidity of it all actually pained him. "And you have enough technology here to defend or keep yourselves hidden from anyone who would try to attack, so why not just kidnap your scientists outright? What's with the 'cognizance altering' crap?"

Garrad stared at him. "I do not need to explain myself to you."

"Test subjects," Emadara said quietly. Her arms were crossed as she stared, expressionless, into the middle distance. "It's all an experiment to him."

Rodney let the words sink in. "Oh my god," he said, disbelieving. "You did it just because you could?" He jerked his head at the device above him. "Because you wanted to use your _toy?_"

"Be quiet," Garrad said again, and this time his tone was ice.

"He's unstable," Rodney said, turning to Emadara in desperation. "All the scientists you said he 'convinced' to work here – don't you see what he really does?!"

"Garrad wouldn't do that," she replied, but her voice was uncertain and her eyes were on her mentor. "Garrad?"

Garrad didn't meet her gaze. Instead, he touched the console, and the humming of the device rose in pitch.

"See?!" Rodney yelled, pleading as the mechanism began to glow with a sinister red light. "You didn't really think he 'reasoned' with every single scientist he kidnapped, did you?!"

Emadara's eyes were wide with shock, and she took a step back as the whirring grew even more high-pitched.

"Emadara, you've got to stop him!" McKay shrieked, not caring in the least that it was a very unmanly sound. "You could be next! Hell, he might have already done it to you!"

"SILENCE!" Garrad roared, and slammed his hand down on the console.

Three things happened in very quick succession.

The first was that Emadara yelled, "No!" and ran into Garrad, bodily shoving him away from the controls.

The second was that the red light began pulsing, the humming became a high-pitched whine, and McKay arched his back and screamed as the device activated.

The third was that Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard stepped through the doorway.

---

John already had his rifle leveled at Garrad and Emadara as he yelled, "Freeze!" When it became apparent neither was paying him any attention – the pair was too caught up in their own squabble – Sheppard swept his eyes over the rest of the room.

The man he recognized from the photos as his missing teammate twisted in agony against the restraints that held him. Deciding that this might be a good time to shoot first and ask questions later, John aimed at the red-glowing claw-like mechanism above the scientist's head and put three successive single-shot rounds in it.

The red lights died. The whining sound cycled down into silence. McKay collapsed back to the chair, chest heaving in frantic, panting breaths.

The entire debacle had perhaps taken three seconds.

Sheppard turned the P-90 on the still-arguing Valerians as he made his way over to McKay.

"Doctor McKay," he said quietly. "Rodney – is that you?"

McKay groaned. "Of course it is," he said, and the snappy retort gave John relief on a level he didn't understand.

"You okay?" Sheppard asked as he began undoing the restraints with one hand, keeping the gun aimed at the strangers.

"_No,_" came the sharp reply as the physicist began to sit up. "It turns out that _frying one's brain _is actually quite painful!" He ran a hand over his face. "Oh, god," he said, sitting up straighter. "What did he erase? What have I forgotten?" He turned to Sheppard, eyes wide. "Quick! You have to quiz me!"

John raised his eyebrows. "Now's not a good time," he said dryly. "Besides, it wasn't on for very long." He nodded at his handiwork.

McKay looked behind him at the bullet-ridden mechanism. "You _shot_ it? _That_ was your elegant solution?" he squawked. "Oh, of course it was," he continued, grumbling. "You military types are all the same."

Sheppard readied a sharp reply of his own. He'd dealt with enough scientists who thought all soldiers were only mindless grunts to know that the 'geniuses' sometimes needed to be put in their place.

"If you mean we're always busting in to save the day,'" he instead quipped lightly, "then I'll take that as a compliment." John stopped. Where had _that_ come from?

"Yeah, well, don't strain yourself. You could have waited a whole _two milliseconds _more, after all."

"I'll remember that you like your brain over easy next time." The banter came so naturally that John was slightly disturbed.

He must have looked confused because McKay was suddenly peering at him intently. "So is it true? You really don't remember me?"

John shifted uncomfortably. "Beckett said it was temporary."

"And that witch doctor still let you go on a mission?"

"Doesn't matter," John shrugged. "You're on my team," he added, as if that explained everything.

"Well of course I am," Rodney snarked back, but John didn't miss the way the scientist's cheeks flushed ever so slightly. "Hey," he added suddenly, "what's my name?"

Sheppard furrowed his brow. "You forgot your own name?"

"No no no," McKay said with an annoyed wave of his hand. "_You _tell _me_ – what's my name?"

John eyed the physicist warily. "Doctor Rodney McKay," he answered slowly. "We _did_ learn the mission basics, you know."

"No, my _first_ name," McKay insisted.

John just stared.

"Huh." Rodney looked at him in amazement.

"What are you talking about, McKay?"

"Nothing," Rodney said, standing. He clapped his hands and rubbed them together briskly. "So," he said before John could ask anything else, "what's the plan?"

Sheppard decided to drop it. "Meet up with Ronon and Teyla and get the hell out of Dodge," he answered. He gestured with his gun. "But I was hoping you could tell me what to do with our prisoners here first."

The prisoners in question seemed to have no idea that they were being held at gunpoint, and were, in fact, still arguing.

"Hey!" Rodney said. "HEY!" John inched away as the physicist began waving his arms like a crazed air traffic controller. "SHUT UP!"

The Valerians stopped abruptly, turning warily to the Lanteans.

"As you can see," McKay continued, "my friends _did_ come for me." He shot Garrad a nasty look. "So I guess your experiment failed."

Garrad's face was white – though whether it was with fear, anger, or shock at the destruction of the cognizance altering device, John couldn't tell.

"Doctor McKay," Emadara said, a pleading look on her face. "You must believe I knew nothing of this!"

Rodney shook his head. "As much as I'd like to believe that you're innocent," he said with a withering look, "you can't seriously tell me that you worked with Doctor Frankenstein here" – he jerked a thumb at Garrad – "all these years and never suspected something was _horribly wrong?_"

Emadara looked confused. "I do not understand."

McKay threw up his hands. "Where do I start? It could have been the whole _kidnapping scientists_ part –"

"The Reservoir could not function without its most precious resource," the young woman responded stubbornly.

"– or maybe it was when he started _cutting into people's brains!_" McKay finished, making a haphazard chopping motion at his head.

Garrad caught on first. "The Whisperers are the Reservoir's greatest accomplishment yet!" he interjected angrily.

"Zombies with Wraith telepathic abilities," Rodney said in answer to John's questioning look.

Sheppard raised an eyebrow. "And they did that on purpose?"

"You think the cognizance altering device is bad? Wait'll you see what else they've done."

"The Whisperers," Emadara said, her tone becoming defensive, "were all criminals of the worst kind." She drew herself up taller. "By punishing them in this way, scientific progress has been made."

"Where I come from," John drawled, "that's called cruel and unusual punishment."

"Yes, yes," Rodney said, waving his hand dismissively, "but I just realized – she's been living with _this_ monster her whole life." He gestured at Garrad. "It's amazing she has any moral sense at all."

"Ah!" John snapped, bringing the P-90 to bear on Garrad. The Valerian's fingers had been inching toward his control pendant. "Hands up! I'm not falling for that again." Reluctantly, Garrad obeyed.

Emadara looked up suddenly. "If I release Doctor McKay's control bracers and show you safely to the surface," she said to John, "will you promise not to seek retribution on the Reservoir?"

"Seems to me you're capable of defending yourselves," John said, avoiding the question.

"Your own arrival has shown me that we are fallible," she answered simply.

"And what about all the scientists?" Rodney demanded. "All your brainwashed automatons?"

Emadara avoided his gaze. "The work of the Reservoir must continue."

"_Are you freaking –_"

"So," John said loudly, cutting off Rodney's enraged reply, "you can get those metal bracelets off, huh?" He shot a warning look at McKay. The physicist huffed, but closed his mouth, shooting the pilot a look of his own that John instinctively understood as, _Fine. I'll play nice. For now._

Emadara nodded and turned to Garrad. The older Valerian remained perfectly still, staring straight ahead, as the girl removed his control pendant. She, in turn, refused to meet his eyes. When she had the necklace around her own neck, she activated it.

Both the pendant and the metal bands around Rodney's wrists glowed in tandem, and then the bracers deactivated and snapped open.

"Finally," McKay muttered, shucking the manacles to the floor. He gave them a vindictive kick across the room.

"Okay," Sheppard said, gesturing with his gun toward Garrad. "You. In the chair. Now."

As John and Rodney strapped him in under the now-useless cognizance altering device, the older Valerian spoke for the first time since Emadara had taken his control crystal. "I am very disappointed in you, Dara."

The young woman stood near the door, fingering the stolen pendant around her neck. "And I in you, Garrad."

"I thought I had taught you better than this."

Emadara turned away. "So did I," she whispered, stepping into the hallway.

Without warning, a wild-eyed figure leapt out and seized the girl from behind. Whirling around, he shoved her back into the room, keeping her steady with an arm around her waist and a sharp-looking knife gleaming at her throat.

"Drop your weapon!" Cador shouted. Blood trickled down his face from where John had smashed it against the elevator floor. "Do it now!" He pressed the knife against Emadara's skin to make his point.

McKay stood frozen, still bent over the restraining clasp around Garrad's leg.

Sheppard straightened slowly. "Okay," he said calmly, "I'm putting my gun down." Slowly, he unhooked the P-90 from his tac vest and lowered it to the floor.

"Kick it this way!" Cador demanded. Emadara whimpered as his grip tightened. "Now!"

John did so. "All right, now we're unarmed," he said, still in a placating tone. "You can put the knife down."

"Release him," Cador said, looking at Garrad with slightly unfocused eyes.

"Hey," Rodney ventured nervously, "you don't look so good. Maybe you should –″ The physicist's words were cut off by a cry from Emadara. A drop of red appeared at her throat.

"Okay!" Sheppard said quickly. "We're letting him go." He began undoing the restraints.

Garrad kept his eyes locked on Cador as his bonds were loosened. John expected him to go for the discarded P-90 on the floor; instead, when he was free, the older man stood and stretched out a hand in supplication.

"You can let her go now, Cador," he said, voice strangely hushed. "Put down the knife."

"And let them subdue us again? No," Cador said, shaking his head. The action seemed to make him dizzy, and he blinked a few times before focusing on Garrad again. "And she has betrayed us! She is disloyal to the Reservoir!"

"No!" Emadara gasped. "No, I –″ But she was silenced by a growl from her captor.

"That can be remedied," Garrad said to Cador, raising his hands in a pacifying manner. "She is still important to our work."

"You see her through clouded eyes," Cador snapped back. "You have always favored her!"

"She has made many advances for the Reservoir."

"Because you always give her the best assignments!"

"She is a prodigy."

"She is a traitor!"

John and Rodney watched the proceedings in a sort of stunned silence.

"Tell me, Garrad," Cador hissed, a dangerous look in his eyes, "what is it that makes her so important to you?" Emadara whimpered again as the knife pressed a little deeper.

Garrad's voice was heavy. "Because," he said, hands falling to his sides, "she's my daughter."

**Act IV**

Ronon woke and immediately assessed his situation.

Without opening his eyes, he tried to form a picture of his surroundings. The hard stone beneath his back and lack of grass tickling his arms told him he was not in the field anymore. There was no brightness against his eyelids, so either night had fallen or he was indoors. He listened to the way the air currents moved about him and concluded that he was in an enclosed space. The only other sound was that of one other person breathing, and a light touch on his arm confirmed that he was not alone.

He opened his eyes.

Teyla released a sigh of relief as she smiled down at him. "It is good to see you awake."

Ronon rumbled an affirmative and sat up. His whole body felt as if he'd run for an entire day without stopping (an experience he unfortunately knew intimately), but he shook off the lethargy and ignored the pain.

"Are you well?" Teyla asked.

Ronon nodded dismissively. "What happened?" he asked, scrubbing a hand over his face.

"Cador activated the Reservoir's defense net," Teyla answered. She cocked her head at him. "You saved John and me from its effects by pushing us to the ground."

Ronon grunted. "Just figured we should do what Cador did." He shrugged. "Must be a safety zone down that low."

Teyla nodded. "Cador escaped, and John followed him. I have tried to reach him," she gestured to the radio on her tac vest, "but there is some sort of interference in this place."

Ronon looked around at the stone-walled corridor. At one end, he could see what looked like a set of transporter doors. "They went this way?"

"Yes," Teyla said. "The 'gate was too far, and I did not feel safe staying on the surface, so I brought you down here."

Ronon raised an eyebrow at her.

"You should perhaps avoid the mess hall's jelly donuts in the future," she said with a straight face.

Ronon snorted as they got to their feet. They made their way down the hallway to the double doors.

The design was similar to the transporters on Atlantis, but nothing happened when the Satedan waved his hand over the control panel.

"See any other ways in?"

"None," Teyla responded.

Ronon shrugged. "Okay," he said, and unholstered his blaster.

"Ronon, perhaps we should –″

He took aim and fired, blasting a giant gouge mark in the center of the doors.

"– consider other options," Teyla finished resignedly.

Ronon used the newly-formed crater for leverage against the smooth surface. With Teyla's help, the pair managed to pull the doors open, forcibly sliding them back into the walls.

What greeted them on the other side was a long vertical shaft leading down into blackness.

"This does not look promising," Teyla said, leaning over the dizzying height.

"Hey," Ronon said, pointing to the side of the shaft. Solid metal rungs, spaced evenly apart, led down as far as they could see.

Teyla gave the runner a baleful look.

"Quickest way to follow Sheppard," Ronon pointed out.

With a sigh of resignation, Teyla nodded.

Ronon edged as close to the side of the shaft as he could, using his long arms to reach out and grab the first rung. When he was safely on the ladder, he helped Teyla cross the yawning gulf.

In silence, the pair climbed down into darkness.

---

"I totally saw this coming!"

John gave Rodney an exasperated look.

"Well, I did," the physicist said defensively. "I mean, I might not have actually put the thought together in my mind – seeing as there really wasn't time in between the kidnapping and the electrocution and the brain frying – but it's just so obvious now!" He gestured wildly at the scene before them.

John had to agree – now that he could see the blue-eyed blonde-haired resemblance between father and daughter, he couldn't _unsee_ it.

The disturbing standoff continued, the three Valerians seemingly unaware of the Lanteans' presence.

Cador's eyes were wide, but his grip on his hostage hadn't loosened. Emadara, however, was suddenly oblivious to the knife at her neck.

Her throat worked soundlessly for a moment. "What?" she finally asked. Her breathing began to speed up.

"She's my daughter," Garrad repeated slowly, still looking at Cador. "I have given you my reason; please release her."

"No!" Emadara said, voice rising shrilly. Cador was too shocked to move, or else his concussed brain had thought Emadara's order applied to him, because the blade did not waver. "You will explain!"

Garrad took a reluctant breath.

"Now!" Emadara shrieked.

Garrad drew himself up to his full height and narrowed his eyes. "My daughter was a bright young prodigy," he began, as if the words were forcing themselves out of his mouth. "Everything she put her mind to, she excelled at."

"Me?" Emadara demanded. "You're talking about me?"

Garrad nodded, and it was as if the action pained him. "In a strike of good fortune, she was born with the ability to operate the Ancestor's technology."

"She's got the gene," McKay muttered to John.

"I think I could have figured that out myself, Rodney."

"She was destined to do great things for the Reservoir," Garrad continued. His voice took on a hard edge. "But she had too much of her mother's softness in her."

"What –" Emadara said, then stopped, swallowing. Her breath came in short, rapid gasps.

"Oh god," Rodney said softly.

"I knew she would never be dedicated to the Reservoir," Garrad said, the only emotion in his voice a hint of disappointment. "So I used my invention." He gestured to the cognizance altering device.

John felt his stomach drop as the pieces clicked into place.

"I erased myself from her memories," the Valerian said, "and planted new ones of the Wraith destroying her family." John felt sick as he saw what looked like _pride_ in the older man's eyes. "I ensured that she would always be committed to doing _whatever it took_ to destroy the Wraith."

If possible, Garrad stood even taller.

"So you see, Cador," the older man finished calmly, "you cannot kill Dara. I have invested too much in her."

Nobody moved. Nobody breathed. Sheppard could have heard a pin drop three corridors away.

Finally, he broke the silence. "You sick _bastard_."

McKay was looking back and forth between father and daughter, at a loss for words. Garrad stood straight, showing no discernible emotion. But Emadara . . .

Emadara stared, as still as a statue, at her mentor and father. Her eyes were bright and disturbingly empty. There was no hate or anger, just a need to _look_, as if drinking in the sight of Garrad were using all her mental faculties.

It was John who saw Cador's knife waver first.

The injured Valerian lowered the blade and put a hand to his head, as if the conversation had given him a headache. Sheppard was on him immediately, wresting the knife away and pushing Emadara to safety. The young woman tumbled to the floor.

Rodney saw Garrad move out of the corner of his eye. The older Valerian was heading toward Sheppard's discarded P-90. "Oh crap," he muttered, and lunged for the weapon himself.

Cador struggled with John, his fight instinct kicking in. The soldier decided to be merciful, maneuvering himself behind the Valerian for a headlock, because one concussion was probably enough for the day.

Rodney ended up tackling Garrad; both crashed to the floor. The P-90 went skidding away as a foot (Rodney didn't know whose) connected with it. Garrad tried to heave Rodney off of him, but though the Valerian was taller, McKay had the advantage in body weight.

Cador yelled as John's arms encircled him. He threw himself backward, slamming Sheppard into the wall, but the pilot just grunted and kept his hold.

The air left Rodney's lungs with an _oof!_ as Garrad's boot connected with his stomach. As the physicist tried to catch his breath, the Valerian scrambled to his feet and ran for the door.

A single, loud gunshot rang out in the enclosed space.

Everyone froze. Cador ceased struggling and Garrad stopped in his tracks.

Emadara stood in the center of the room, wisps of smoke rising from the barrel of the P-90 in her hands.

Garrad took a hesitant step forward. "Dara . . ." he said in confusion.

A bright red spot bloomed on his shirt and began to spread.

Rodney scrambled to his feet as Garrad collapsed to the floor. He edged his way around the restraining chair, out of Emadara's line of sight.

The girl lowered the P-90 to her side. There was an odd look in her eyes, as if she weren't quite aware of her surroundings.

They watched in shock as Emadara seemed to float toward her father. Her expression was peaceful, a small smile on her lips. She knelt beside the injured man with something akin to reverence.

Garrad's breathing was shallow, coming in quick pants. Blood stained the corners of his mouth. He looked up at his daughter with wide eyes.

Emadara smiled down at him. She smoothed some of his wild hair off his forehead and leaned down, putting her mouth next to his ear.

None of the three men could hear what she whispered, but they watched as an expression of content spread over the dying man's face.

Emadara smiled again and pressed her lips to her father's forehead in a gentle kiss. Garrad's breathing hitched once, twice, and then his eyes lost focus as he exhaled a final time. His body went lax, and he breathed no more.

Cador broke the spell. "Traitor!" he cried, lunging forward, and John was so focused on the bizarre scene that he let the Valerian slip from his hold. "What have you –"

Without a word, Emadara stood and fired three shots, almost point blank, at the oncoming man.

Cador fell to the ground, his momentum sliding him along the floor. He was dead before he came to a stop.

"Whoa whoa whoa!" Rodney cried, throwing his hands up as the muzzle swung toward him.

"Hey!" John yelled, moving toward the physicist. "Now just hold on a second!"

Emadara stopped, gun pointed at Rodney, with an almost quizzical expression on her face.

"Just – just what the hell do you think you're doing?" Rodney demanded in high-pitched alarm.

Emadara spared a disinterested glance at Cador's body before returning her blank gaze to McKay.

"He would have tried to stop me," she said, as if that explained everything.

"Look, you've had quite a shock," John said, still edging slowly toward Rodney. As he'd done with Cador only minutes earlier, he put his hands up in a non-threatening manner. "Put the gun down and we can talk about this."

The Valerian ignored him. "Did you know the Reservoir has a self-destruct, Doctor McKay?" she asked instead. "I can activate it with this." She held up Garrad's crystal pendant, which was still around her neck. "Do you agree that I should?"

Rodney tried not to shudder at the completely disinterested way she spoke, as if she were merely discussing whether there would be clouds or sunshine today. "Okay, I get it, your dad did bad stuff to you," he said, mirroring Sheppard's stance. "But, uh, he's dead now, so blowing stuff up would be overkill, don't you think?"

"We know you're angry," John said quickly. "I understand that you want to destroy this place."

Emadara cocked her head to the side. The P-90 wavered. "I am not angry."

Sheppard and McKay exchanged a glance. "Okay, you're not angry," John said, "but still –″

"I am disappointed," Emadara interrupted. She frowned. "And I am disappointed in you, Doctor McKay, for not seeing what must be done." She brought up the rifle.

John tackled Rodney around the waist. Three more bullets whizzed through the air, embedding themselves in the wall of the lab. The scientist hit the ground behind the restraining chair with a grunt, followed by an "Ow!" as Sheppard landed on top of him.

Using the chair for cover, John scrambled to his knees and drew his sidearm. He fired three shots blindly, then hunkered back down, listening.

When there were no answering shots, the lieutenant colonel chanced a glance at the room. Emadara was gone.

McKay groaned. "Was that really necessary?" he snarked. "I think you misaligned my spine."

"You're welcome," John said, reaching down to help the scientist up.

Rodney arched his back as he looked around the room. "Where'd she go?"

"She ran off," Sheppard said, checking the clip on his Glock. "Can she really set the self-destruct?"

"Well, how should I know?" Rodney said irritably. "All I know is that I did _not_ like that crazy look in her eyes. Did you see that?!"

"Then we need to find Ronon and Teyla and get the hell out of here."

"No!" McKay exclaimed. "We have to go after her! Look," he said at John's severe expression, "this place is like a – like a scientific _treasure trove_." His tone became pleading. "We can't just let her blow it up!"

"There are other people here, right?" John said. "Can't we just alert them to stop her?"

McKay shook his head vehemently. "No no no, you don't understand – this place is full of _scientists_. _Brainwashed_ scientists at that! And without Garrad as a leader, they've got no one to tell them what to do." He gestured wildly with his hands. "Plus, there are no security forces to speak of! It's just a bunch of scientists run amok!"

"Sounds like Atlantis without the marines."

"Exact- hey!"

"Let's move out then," Sheppard said, heading for the door.

"Wait!" Rodney said. "She's wearing at least two pendants now – if I can get into a computer, I can track her movements."

"You can do that?"

"Please," Rodney snorted, "do you know who you're talking to?"

John gave him a blank look.

"Oh, right," the physicist said, embarrassed. "Uh, yes, I just need to find one that's undamaged."

John gestured for Rodney to lead the way. They stepped into the corridor and hurried down the hall.

---

"Ronon, wait," Teyla said. She put a hand against the wall.

Ronon stopped and turned back to her. They had exited the elevator shaft (through use of a manual door lever Teyla had found before Ronon could bring out his blaster) and were now walking in a white-walled corridor. A few gaggles of scientists had crossed their path, but they had avoided them easily; the scientists were not very aware of their surroundings.

"What is it?" he asked.

The Athosian closed her eyes and breathed deeply. "I sense Wraith."

Ronon immediately raised his blaster and pointed down the hall. "An attack?"

"No," Teyla shook her head. "There are not very many, and . . ." She furrowed her brow. "They are . . . trapped."

Ronon relaxed his stance a fraction. "Which way?"

Teyla opened her eyes. "This way," she said, leading him down the hall.

They eventually came to a door that was larger than all the others they had seen. Teyla ran her hands along its frame. "They are in here," she confirmed.

Ronon waved his hand over the control panel and the doors began opening.

"Security sucks," he muttered. Then he froze.

The doors had not opened because Ronon wanted to get _in_, but because someone had been coming _out_. The Athosian and Satedan were suddenly face to face with one of the Reservoir scientists.

Or rather, face to receding hairline, as the man's head was bent, his eyes focused on a data pad in his arms.

Ronon and Teyla stood, stock still, as the scientist exited the room. He walked past them, absorbed in the computer, and continued obliviously down the hall.

The pair hurried into the room as the doors began to hiss closed.

"Security _really_ sucks," Ronon muttered again.

The room was big – at least as large as the 'jumper bay on Atlantis – and the edges were shrouded in darkness. Ronon and Teyla slipped into the shadows behind some stacks of empty crates.

There was a holding cell in the center of the room, illuminated by a pale yellow light. Within it were half a dozen Wraith – one male commander and five drones. The commander paced the length of the cage while the others stood at attention.

"They are starving," Teyla said quietly.

Ronon didn't feel any sympathy for them, but he saw that the group did indeed look ragged. The commander's black coat was torn in several places, and its hair was tangled. The drones slouched where they stood, as if standing took up all their energy.

"What is the purpose of this place?" Teyla wondered aloud.

A noise on the far side of the room prompted the pair to conceal themselves in deeper shadows.

A young woman with long blonde hair strode in through another entrance, followed closely by four other figures. She wore a strange crown-like device full of wires and crystals on her head, and the figures behind her matched her step for step as they walked.

"Emadara," Teyla whispered as the group came into the light. Then she gasped.

Ronon felt his own breath catch as he saw the young woman's followers more clearly. They were bald, with a multitude of stitched scars along their scalps, and eerily blank eyes. He couldn't tell one from the other.

The four ghost-like figures stopped in a line behind Emadara. She approached the cage and addressed the Wraith commander.

"I killed your brother today," she said without preamble. Behind her, the four blank-eyed figures' lips moved in tandem, speaking Emadara's words with her in a low murmur.

The commander sneered at her. "And have you come to kill us now, as well?"

Emadara cocked her head to the side, a satisfied smile playing at her lips. Her followers mirrored her movements. "Yes," she said. "I can't have you alive when the others arrive." The murmuring of the four dull voices under her own made Ronon's skin crawl.

The Wraith snarled. "It does not matter!" he roared, pressing himself against the bars. "This place, this _Reservoir_," he spat, "will never defeat the Wraith!"

"I agree."

The Wraith seemed startled by her concession.

"In fact," Emadara continued, "in a short while, there will be nothing left of this place." She stepped closer, and her demeanor grew suddenly cold. "But I think incineration is too kind a death for monsters like you." Face twisted with hatred, she raised her right arm to shoulder level, pointing at the Wraith. Her followers did the same.

The crystals in the crown began to glow.

At first, nothing happened. Ronon looked at Teyla, but her eyes were riveted on the cell. When he turned back, the drones were twitching, shifting from foot to foot and twisting their heads to look around. The commander closed his eyes and lowered his head, almost like he were meditating.

Then all hell broke loose.

Teyla and Ronon watched as an awful howl arose and the drones began to brawl. They clawed and kicked and body slammed each other, and the clanging impact of the cage bars rang in the air. One drone ripped off the breastplate of another and began to feed, but another stepped up behind it and unceremoniously snapped its neck. It was madness, pure violence without reason, made only worse when the Wraith commander began screaming and clawing at his own face.

Teyla did not know which sickened her more – the carnage inside the cage, or the way Emadara watched with an exhilaration that bordered on manic glee.

Something moved in the shadows to her right. Teyla snapped her head to look, but whatever it was had disappeared.

She was about to alert Ronon when she saw it again out of the corner of her eye. She whirled around to look behind her, but there was only darkness.

Teyla felt her pulse quicken. There was something in the gloom around her. She could feel it. She could _hear_ it – a menacing whisper in her mind.

She brought her P-90 up, ready to defend herself. The threat would reveal itself soon, attacking from the shadows. Teyla's heart was pounding now. No – the threat _was_ the shadows! The darkness was going to envelop her!

Something touched her arm, and the whispering grew to a crescendo. The gun fell from her hands as she lashed out, desperate to keep the shadows from consuming her.

Strong tendrils of blackness wrapped around her wrists and arms. She struggled, panicking, blind fear clouding her mind. She was caught! Captured! Trapped!

Teyla screamed.

---

Ronon did his best to hold Teyla still without hurting her, but he couldn't keep her quiet. Her scream echoed across the cavernous space.

Emadara turned her head to look for the source of the sound. Four pairs of blank eyes followed.

At that moment, the doors Ronon and Teyla had used to enter the room opened again, and Sheppard, tucking a glowing crystal pendant back into his vest pocket, entered with another man.

"I _told_ you," the other man was saying loudly, "we should have gone down a level before turning –″ He cut off abruptly as he took in the scene.

Emadara turned away from the cage of dead and dying Wraith, raising a P-90 as she did so. Ronon cursed himself – he had been so distracted by the disfigured automatons she controlled that he hadn't even noticed the stolen weapon.

John and the stranger dove for cover as Emadara sprayed the area with bullets, ending up behind a crate not too far from where Ronon still struggled with Teyla.

"Damn it," Ronon heard John mutter, "I was hoping she wouldn't learn to take it off single-shot."

Teyla cried out again, and Ronon twisted around, trying to hold her and reach his blaster at the same time. He didn't want to, but he would stun the Athosian if he had to.

"Teyla!" John yelled.

"It's the Whisperers!" the stranger said with horrified comprehension. The man pointed at Emadara's followers, and Ronon realized it was Doctor McKay. "Her Wraith DNA – she must be getting some feedback from them!"

Teyla suddenly sagged in Ronon's arms and went limp. He looked up and saw Emadara sweeping out of the room, Whisperers in tow.

Ronon lowered his teammate to the ground, checking her breathing as Sheppard and McKay ran up beside them.

"Ronon?" John said.

"She's alive," Ronon answered, instinctively knowing what his team leader was asking.

"Good," the lieutenant colonel replied brusquely. "You're with me. McKay, stay with Teyla!"

Ronon shot a look at McKay. He was wide-eyed and pale, twisting his hands anxiously as he looked at Teyla. Ronon really didn't want to leave his fallen teammate alone with the nervous man, but Sheppard was already running across the room toward where Emadara had disappeared, and so he drew his blaster and followed.

---

"Right, uh, Teyla? Can you hear me?"

It felt like she was climbing up out of a thick dark sludge.

"It's me, Rodney McKay. I know you don't remember me, but, well, you _did_ come to rescue me, so that means you know I'm on your team, even if you don't remember me specifically, and as your teammate, I'm asking you to please wake up now."

The constant buzz of words washed through her mind like a wave, dispelling the blackness.

"Okay, Sheppard and Ronon haven't come back yet, and it's really creepy in here, what with the shadows and the echoes and the _cage full of dead Wraith_, so I'd really appreciate some moral support in the form of another conscious person to talk to and, you know, defend me from any other monsters that might be roaming around."

Teyla opened her eyes. "That voice," she said.

"Oh good," Rodney said, sagging in relief.

Teyla sat up and looked at the man kneeling beside her. "You are Doctor McKay, yes?" she said eagerly.

"One and the same." He raised his hand half-heartedly.

"I know your voice!"

"You do?"

"Yes!" Teyla continued excitedly. "It is on the recording I sometimes play for Torren!"

"You do?" he repeated. A smile lit up the scientist's face, and Teyla somehow knew it was a rare expression for the man. "That's the pre-baby present I got you! Scientific theories, some musings on my accomplishments . . ." He looked pleased. "You really play it for the little guy?"

Teyla hesitated. "Only if I am having trouble getting him to sleep," she admitted.

"Oh," Rodney said. His expression twisted, unsure if he should be touched or insulted.

John and Ronon appeared at a door at the far end of the room and began running back toward them.

Teyla pulled the physicist into an Athosian head-touch greeting. "I am glad we have found you," she said sincerely.

McKay reciprocated awkwardly. "Uh, yeah, me too."

"Lost her," Sheppard said in frustration as he reached them. "She took 'em all into an elevator and we couldn't follow fast enough." He looked at Teyla. "You okay?"

The Athosian nodded. "I will be."

"What the hell was that?" Ronon asked.

"Oh, just a woman having a mental breakdown and leading her telepathic zombie slaves through the halls of an underground bunker before blasting it into oblivion." McKay shrugged as he stood. "Probably only a six on the Pegasus scale of 'Things that Have Tried to Kill Me.'" He waved his hand. "Eh, maybe a five-and-a-half."

"Long story short," Sheppard interjected, "her dad did some pretty terrible things to her mind while she was here. Now she's hell-bent on destroying the whole facility."

Ronon frowned. "Lotsa civilians here," he pointed out.

"Lotsa _science_ here," Rodney insisted instead. "Technology Atlantis could use! We can't let it be destroyed!" At Ronon's continued frown, he added, "I mean, of course we need to save the people first, you know that's what I meant – or, actually, maybe you don't, but if you _did_ know me, which you will, as soon as you remember, you'd know that I'm really all about the 'saving people' first, and the 'science' second, it just doesn't sound that way when I get excited, so –″

"Bottom line, we need to either stop her or get as many people out as possible," Sheppard interrupted. He reached a hand down and helped Teyla to her feet.

"Yes, and soon," McKay said, hands fluttering about his head as they headed for the exit, "before Little Miss Daddy Issues goes and –″

A piercing siren split the air. Red lights snapped on and began flashing at every doorway. A persistent alarm rose and fell at regular intervals.

"- does something like that," McKay finished irritably.

---

Ronon tried his best to block out the sound, but the persistent whining continued, grating into his skull. The droning sometimes cycled down into a lower register, but it always rose again, and it _never stopped_. The runner gritted his teeth and tried to ignore it, but it was altogether impossible.

And also, the Reservoir's alarm was still blaring.

"Do you ever shut up?" he finally snapped.

McKay barely paused to take a breath. "Oh, I'm sorry, but you've obviously _quite literally_ forgotten that I tend to ramble on a bit when faced with _certain death._"

Ronon glared, but the physicist didn't even look up from the console he was hunched over. They had accessed a computer in an empty lab and the irritating little man hadn't stopped talking to himself since.

"Just find out what's going on, McKay," Sheppard said with more patience than Ronon thought the scientist deserved.

"Oh, I know what's going on!" Rodney replied, still not looking up. "She sounded the evacuation alarm – everyone's heading up to the surface."

"Evacuation?" Teyla said, and she, too, seemed more at ease with the scientist than Ronon would have guessed. "That is good news."

"Good news? No, 'good news' would be finding a way to abort the self-destruct without the use of Garrad's control pendant, which, yes, would normally be a piece of cake for a genius like me, but is now hampered by an unknown time constraint which ends in _fiery doom_ –″

"She means the scientists are heading to safety!" John cut off McKay's rant. "And that's what we need to be doing, too."

"What?" Rodney squawked as his team began heading for the door. "We can't just leave everything here to get blown up!"

Ronon literally growled and quite seriously considered stunning the man and dragging him to the surface.

"You said it yourself, McKay," Sheppard said. "We've got an unknown time constraint. Let's move it."

Ronon thought for a moment that he really would have to bodily haul the physicist with them, but then Rodney huffed and jogged after them, grumbling all the way.

They passed the occasional scientist or group of scientists running through the halls, but that level must have been sparsely populated or else quickly evacuated, because the sightings were few and far between. Ronon enjoyed the relative quiet while it lasted, which wasn't long. When they came to a set of elevator doors, Sheppard reached into his tac vest and brought out a glowing pendant.

"Cador's control crystal!" McKay said suddenly, snapping his fingers. "Give it here!"

John snatched the pendant away from the physicist's grabby hands. McKay huffed as the pilot first activated the elevator's control panel before graciously handing the crystal to the scientist.

"What are you doing?" Teyla asked.

"Calling up a crazy woman," Rodney muttered before activating the pendant and holding it up to his mouth. "Emadara? Emadara, are you there? Can you hear me?"

There was a pregnant pause during which the doors hissed open.

"Doctor McKay," came the absentminded response. "How nice to hear from you."

"Look, where are you?" Rodney asked as they piled into the elevator.

"On the way to my destiny," Emadara replied cryptically.

"Well you need to turn around," McKay demanded, "and turn off the self-destruct right now!"

"Oh, no, Doctor McKay," she said dreamily. "We must purge away our past before we can go forth to our new purpose."

"What? What's with the New Age crap?" Rodney said incredulously. "What 'new purpose'?"

There was a hum, almost a chuckle, from the young woman. "To finish the work of my father, of course."

McKay looked like he wanted to bang his head against the wall. "Emadara – _you just killed your father!_"

Teyla made a noise of disapproval at the physicist's crass words, but otherwise remained silent.

"I hope to see you on the surface, Doctor McKay," Emadara said, as if she hadn't heard him. "Perhaps we will get to work together again. I know we would make my father proud."

"What?" McKay nearly screeched. "Emadara? Emadara!"

But there was no answer.

"Well," said John after a moment, "I think that pretty much confirms your 'loony toons' diagnosis."

Rodney threw his hands up in disgust. "That's it! We are finding her, and we're getting that pendant, and then she can have all the psychotherapy she needs!"

"Perhaps it is deeper than that," Teyla offered. "You said that her father distorted her memories, no?"

"Yeah, maybe multiple times," Sheppard mused. "That's gotta end up in some kind of brain damage."

"Well you can feel sorry for her later," McKay muttered, "_after_ we make sure she's not gonna go off and restart her daddy's little scientific _freak show_."

"Think she has the Whisperers with her?" Ronon rumbled, speaking for the first time.

The hum of the ascending elevator was loud as the three men looked to Teyla.

"I believe I can close my mind to them," she said confidently, but her eyes were dark.

"You just let us know the moment you sense anything," John said. Teyla nodded.

At that point, there was a slight lurch, and the elevator came to a halt. The doors opened on a narrow, dirt-walled corridor. Ronon could see a set of stairs at the end.

"Geez, how far underground were we?" Rodney complained. "That was quite possibly the longest time I've ever spent in an elevator – unless, of course, you count the time in college I got stuck with Julie Esserman when the power went out in my dormitory and –″

"Shut up," Ronon hissed.

"No, seriously! And she was hot, too – English Lit. major, though, so not really my type, but –″

Ronon grabbed McKay by the collar and fixed him with a positively terrifying glare. The physicist uttered something that might have been "meep!" but then fell silent.

In the quiet, they could hear the sound of shouting voices drifting to them from above.

Ronon led the way as they jogged toward the stairs. He bounded up the steps, blaster at the ready, into the night air.

This particular entrance was closer to the middle of the field, nearly in the center of the ring of defense net poles. Perhaps a hundred Reservoir scientists, who had had emerged from a dozen other outlets scattered about the area, were calling to each other across the meadow. It reminded Ronon strongly of small rodents popping up from their holes. From what he could tell, everyone was trying to make their way toward the Stargate in the distance, but the light of the twin crescent moons on the horizon was not bright enough to let him see it.

"Okay," Sheppard said as he joined the Satedan, also assessing the situation. "If Emadara's up here, she'll be heading for the 'gate – which is good, 'cause that's what we want to do, too."

"Keep your eyes peeled for the zombie entourage," Rodney muttered.

"Teyla," John said, "fall back with McKay." He looked at her grimly. "Let us know if you feel anything."

Teyla nodded as she and the scientist fell into step about thirty feet behind Sheppard and Ronon.

"Oh, and if you see those pole things activate . . ." John added over his shoulder, sweeping a hand at the ring around them, "hit the deck."

"What?" Rodney demanded, but the colonel and the Satedan were pulling away.

"They make up the Reservoir's defense net," Teyla explained. "Ronon was nearly electrocuted by the energy field they produce."

"Oh." Rodney gulped. "Then, uh, I'm _really_ glad they don't normally keep it on full power."

Teyla opened her mouth to ask a question, but quite suddenly snapped it shut.

"Teyla?"

The Athosian's eyes widened and she grabbed Rodney's arm with one hand and tightened her grip on her P-90 with the other.

"Teyla, what's wrong? Is it the Whisperers?!" McKay asked twisting his head to peer at the darkness surrounding them. "Sheppard!" he yelled.

"No," Teyla said, shaking her head. "It is not the Whisperers. Rodney," she said urgently, "it is something Emadara said to the captive Wraith! I thought she meant other scientists when she spoke of 'the others,' but . . ."

Rodney looked at her in trepidation as she raised her eyes to the sky. He followed her gaze. Terrifyingly familiar shapes darted against the background of stars.

"McKay?" John called back to them.

"Wraith!" McKay shouted, breaking into a run with Teyla beside him. "Emadara called the damn Wraith!"

And then the Darts were on them.

**Act V**

"Get down!" Sheppard roared. He ran three steps, hit the ground and rolled, just as a culling beam swept by him.

Screams began ringing through the night air as the evacuees realized what was happening. John raised his head in time to see a group of half a dozen scientists, not ten yards away, disappear in a flash of white as the Dart swept over them.

"Teyla!" John yelled. "Ronon!"

"Since your brain is more addled than usual," snarked a voice from nearby, "I'm going to forgive you for not including me in that."

John scrambled up and hurried toward the sound, heaving McKay to his feet when he found him.

"Where are Teyla and Ronon?" he asked.

"I am here, John," Teyla said, jogging up out of the dark. "We must find cover!"

"Have you seen any other underground entrances?" John asked.

"We can't go back down!" Rodney squawked. "Need I remind you of the _imminent fiery doom?!_"

"It's not like we have a lot of options, McKay!" Sheppard barked. "I don't think we can make it to the 'gate!"

"It's blocked, anyways," Ronon announced, suddenly appearing beside them. "Wraith dialed in."

"Damn it," John said, seeing for himself the blue glow of an active wormhole in the distance. "Okay, stay twenty feet apart at all times," he ordered quickly, "and scatter the moment you hear a Dart headed our way."

"Hey!" McKay said suddenly, looking beyond them. He pushed past John and Teyla and began running across the field.

"McKay!" John barked. Beside him, Ronon growled and took off after the wayward scientist.

John and Teyla followed at a short distance, scanning the sky for attack. The Darts buzzed through the air like glowing red insects, and all throughout the field panicking scientists were disappearing into the white light of culling beams.

One of the Wraith ships swooped down, forcing them to zigzag as they dived out of the way of its scooping run. When they got back on their feet, Ronon and Rodney had pulled away from them.

"Why would she do this?" Teyla asked as they resumed their pursuit. "Why would Emadara save them from the facility's destruction, only to be culled by the Wraith?"

"Apart from the fact that she's gone nuts?" John answered. "Damned if I know."

---

"Hey!" Rodney shouted. "Stop!"

As the physicist approached, the spot of light he'd been following stopped moving and resolved itself into the glowing crystals of Emadara's control crown.

"Emadara!" he said, panting as he came to a halt. "You need to . . . uh . . ."

He trailed off as the Valerian turned to him, flanked by the four Whisperers. The dead-eyed figures looked ghostly in the dim light, and McKay swallowed back a sudden thrill of fear.

Ronon ran up beside him, blaster aimed at the madwoman.

"No!" Rodney cried. "You could damage the control crystal!"

Ronon hesitated and gave the physicist an annoyed look. "So?"

"So we need Garrad's pendant to turn off the self-destruct!" McKay said irritably. "So we can hide in the Reservoir until the Wraith are gone!"

Ronon growled and tightened his grip on the weapon, but didn't fire.

Emadara watched the Lanteans impassively. "You cannot get back in," she said. The Whisperers' dull voices under her words drifted eerily through the dark. "The Reservoir is sealed."

"Well, unseal it!" Rodney demanded.

Emadara didn't seem to hear him as she raised her eyes to the sky.

"I am going now to finish my father's work," she whispered.

"What –″ Rodney began, and then he heard it.

"McKay!" Ronon shouted. The Satedan turned to run, grabbing the scientist's shirt as he did.

"No!" Rodney cried, but the whine of the Dart was growing louder, and the runner was already hauling him away.

The culling beam materialized, and Ronon pushed McKay in front of him, urging the physicist to go faster. Rodney spared a glance over his shoulder.

In the moment before the ship reached her, Emadara dropped her gaze and looked him straight in the eye. She smiled, and McKay found that her twisted, eager expression frightened him more than either the Wraith or the Whisperers.

Then the white beam swept over both the Valerian and her servants, and they were gone.

---

"We are so screwed!" Rodney announced as he and Ronon rendezvoused with Sheppard and Teyla.

"You said that already," John said. "Now figure out how to get us _un_screwed."

McKay gawked. "_What?!_ How is it that you can't remember my _name_, and yet you still look to me to save our lives by pulling some kind of miracle out of my ass?!"

"I do that a lot, do I?"

"Yes you do!"

"Then I must have a good reason!"

"I – you – don't change the subject!"

"What about the defense net?" Ronon interrupted. He was scanning the skies around them, anxious to be moving again.

"I do not think the energy field would reach high enough to affect the Darts," Teyla said.

"Yes yes yes," Rodney said, waving his hand like he was shooing away a fly. "From what I could tell, it's only meant to stop a ground assault."

"Then what do we do?" Ronon growled.

"Oh, now _you're_ asking me, too?" McKay snarked. "Look, the Wraith are looking for the beacon that called them, and on top of that, the Reservoir's cloak is turned off, so it's a pretty big bet they'll want to investigate the strange underground bunker that just showed up on their sensors!" He flailed his hands at their surroundings. "They aren't gonna stop until they've culled this entire field and then –″ The physicist's eyes suddenly widened. He did a strange double-fist snap-pop before pointing at Sheppard with excitement in his eyes. "The defense net!"

"You said it wouldn't work," Sheppard said skeptically, but the scientist was already speedwalking away, forcing his team to follow.

"No no no, we're not gonna use it to attack; we're gonna use it to _hide_."

"I don't think that –″

"You said the poles emitted an energy field, right?" McKay interrupted. "Which means they probably create a strong electromagnetic disturbance, even when they're not active."

"And we can use it?" Teyla asked.

"If we stick close to them, we should be hidden from the Wraith scanners!" Rodney said, as if the deduction were obvious.

"Think it'll work?" Ronon asked Sheppard.

"Well of course I do," McKay said, misinterpreting the direction of question. "If I didn't I wouldn't have suggested it!"

John turned to look at the sky behind them. "We're gonna have to test your theory, McKay," he said tightly.

In the distance, the glowing red engine of a Dart banked in a wide arc, circling around to make another run. It straightened its flight path and leveled out, picking up speed. The white flash of its culling beam swept through the grassland as it zoomed across the field.

It was headed straight for them.

"Move it!" John roared.

Sheppard had to hand it to McKay – the physicist kept decent pace with the team as they fled across the grass. John led the way, followed closely by Teyla and Rodney. Ronon brought up the rear, though the Satedan could easily have outstripped them all.

The low whine of the Dart grew closer and closer, the droning growing higher and higher in pitch.

Sheppard held back from a full out sprint, running as fast as he dared while still watching for obstacles hidden in the grass. He used the loud, gasping breaths behind him as a warning system for if and when Rodney fell behind.

"Pick up the pace, McKay!" he yelled.

"I . . . am!"

Sheppard could hear the whoosh of the Dart cutting through the air. The white light of the culling beam seemed too bright in the dark, casting faint shadows in front of them. It reflected dimly off the gray metal pillar that loomed ahead.

"It's almost on us!" Ronon yelled. Sheppard heard the whine of the runner's blaster powering up.

John's legs burned and his heart pounded. He heard Teyla's heavy breathing and McKay's frantic panting.

"Almost there, Rodney!" Teyla gasped in encouragement.

And quite suddenly, Sheppard was. The pole seemed to jump up out of the dark, and he flung an arm out to catch himself. His momentum carried him around, jerking his shoulder muscles painfully as he clothes-lined the pillar.

Teyla was right behind him, coming to a stop with considerably more grace and less bodily harm. Seconds later, Rodney was grabbing the emitter with both arms, almost hugging it, as he slid to the ground in a gasping heap.

"Ronon!" Sheppard yelled.

Still out in the open, Ronon took aim and fired over his shoulder without breaking stride. His shot went wide, but the sudden bolt of red energy caused the Wraith ship to veer slightly to the side.

The runner sprinted toward his team as the Dart bore down on them.

"Not gonna make it," McKay wheezed.

"Yes, he is!" John contradicted fiercely.

At the very last second, Ronon twisted to the side, shot his legs out in front of him, and, to Sheppard's amazement, slid into the pillar exactly like a baseball player sliding into home base.

The engine whine grew to a deafening roar; the hair on John's arms and neck stood up in the peripheral energy of the culling beam; and then the Dart blew by in a frenzy of noise and wind.

"Cutting it close there, buddy!" Sheppard said, trying to catch his own breath.

Ronon lay where he'd fallen, arms flopped out, chest heaving. "Nah," he said without moving. "'m good."

"Go away, go away, go away," Rodney muttered breathlessly.

John looked askance at the physicist before he realized McKay was looking at the sky, watching the Dart that had just missed culling them.

"McKay?"

"It's turning away, right?" Rodney asked, still breathing hard. "It's not coming back?"

Sheppard watched the ship bank into a turn before it started climbing up through the atmosphere.

"Doesn't look like it."

"Oh, good," Rodney breathed. "That means it doesn't know we're here. Probably thinks it culled us."

Sheppard stared. "Are you telling me you didn't know if the emitter would hide us or not?!"

McKay shrugged, sitting and leaning his head back against the pillar. "Hardly matters now. It worked, didn't it?"

John was about to retort when Teyla spoke.

"Listen," she said. "Do you hear that?"

They paused in silence.

"I don't hear anything," McKay said.

"Exactly." Ronon's voice was grim.

"Culling's over," John said in realization. "They think they got everyone."

They looked out over the dark and empty field. The twin crescent moons had risen farther above the horizon, bathing the grass in murky gray light. Nothing moved, and the only sound was the fading whine of the Darts as they ascended through the atmosphere on their way back to the orbiting hive ship.

"Hello?" Rodney said, and John turned to see the physicist speaking into Cador's stolen control crystal. "Hello? Can anyone hear me? Any Reservoir people left out there? Hello?"

There was no answer. McKay sighed and hung his head, running a hand across the back of his neck.

The faint sound of a wormhole disengaging reached their ears.

Rodney looked up. The blue glow of the 'gate, less than half a mile from the pillar they'd claimed as shelter, winked out. "Well," he said, "I guess they really are done." He looked up at John. "Can we go home now?"

"I thought you said they'd be back to investigate the facility."

"Well . . . maybe they're gonna have dinner first." He suppressed a shudder.

"Somethin' doesn't feel right," Ronon rumbled.

"I agree with Ronon," Teyla said, looking at the stars with a frown. "This is too easy."

"Too easy?!" Rodney scoffed. "They culled maybe a hundred scientists, and then chased us down like animals, nearly giving me a heart attack in the process, and that's _too easy?!_"

"We'll wait ten minutes," Sheppard decided. "If it's still all clear, we'll make for the 'gate."

"Do I need to remind you that there is a very large underground facility beneath us that is _primed to explode at any moment?!_"

Sheppard grimaced. "No," he bit back, "but I have a feeling we don't have to worry about that anymore."

"Oh yeah? And how did you come to that conclusion?"

"'Cause I think it would have gone off by now."

Ronon nodded in agreement. "It's a dud," he added helpfully.

"I don't believe this!" McKay threw up his hands in exasperation. "The 'gate is _right there_, and we're just gonna sit on our –″

"John!" Teyla said suddenly. "They are returning!"

Sheppard looked up as the droning sound of a single Wraith Dart began to grow. "Crap," he said under his breath. "Okay, everybody down, as close to the pillar as you can get," he ordered. "We might not show up on their sensors, but I don't want them to get a visual, either."

The four teammates crouched close to the ground, leaning against the pole for support. They watched in trepidation as the Dart buzzed the field, circling once before the bright flash of its culling beam nearly blinded them.

John squeezed his eyes shut, but he couldn't block out the afterimage burned into his retinas.

"Oh no," he heard Teyla say softly. The whine of the Dart faded again as it retreated.

John opened his eyes and blinked a few times. "Everybody see that?" he asked.

"If by 'that' you mean the couple dozen Wraith that just beamed down less than two hundred meters from our position," Rodney grumbled, rubbing his eyes, "then yes, I did, in fact, see just how screwed we are. _Again._"

"Will you stop that?" Ronon suddenly growled. "Is that all you do on missions? _Whine_ all the time?"

"Ronon!" Sheppard barked. He fixed the Satedan with a level stare. Ronon curled his lip, but after a moment, the big man backed down.

"I'll have you know," Rodney said, though his voice was shaking, "that I am a _genius_, and I've contributed more to this team than you could ever –″

"Rodney!" Sheppard abruptly cut him off. "You must be a real genius, right? The best?"

"Oh, what's that supposed to mean? That that's the only possible reason you can think of for why you put up with me?!"

"No," John said calmly. "You must be the best, because you're on my team, and I only put _the best_ on my team." The colonel spoke to Rodney, but his eyes were on Ronon.

The Satedan nodded grudgingly.

"Oh," McKay said, "well. Yes, then – yes, I am a genius. The best." A bit of the snark came back into his voice. "I mean, have you forgotten why the mad scientists kidnapped me in the first place?!"

"Good," Sheppard said firmly, "because I've got a dozen Wraith headed our way, half a mile of uncovered ground between us and the Stargate, and" – he raised his eyes to the pillar standing over them – "I'm gonna need you to pull off another miracle."

---

Ronon lay on his belly in the grass, watching two of the Wraith drones pass only a dozen paces from his position. He tightened his grip on his blaster, but otherwise remained perfectly still.

The Wraith company had spread out, searching the field for one of the hidden entrances. The two Ronon watched now were establishing a perimeter, making their way slowly around the circle of defense net poles, stunners at the ready.

Teyla was somewhere off to his right, in a similar position with her P-90. He couldn't see her, but he knew she was watching the Wraith as closely as he was. If the drones continued on their present course . . .

There was a sudden noise from the darkness a short distance behind him. It sounded distinctly like an electrical zap, followed by a bitten off curse word.

The Wraith paused and turned toward the sound, raising their stunners.

Ronon heard the careful _click_ of a P-90's safety disengaging in the darkness to his right.

The runner grinned and took aim.

---

Sheppard raised his nine-mil as the sound of automatic weapons fire shattered the quiet of the night.

"You're out of time, McKay!"

The physicist spoke around the burned finger he had popped into his mouth. "Well, as you can see by the circuit that just blew, this isn't as easy as it looks!"

John scanned the darkness around them. The muzzle flash of Teyla's P-90 and the red bolts from Ronon's blaster were like beacons in the night – which was both good and bad at this point. "Ronon and Teyla are buying you time, but the rest of 'em are gonna be here any minute, so hurry up!"

The dim glow of Cador's pendant illuminated the scientist's scowl as he worked on an open control panel on the side of the pillar. "Oh, I am," he grumbled, sticking his hand back into the mess of wires and crystals, "but if you haven't noticed, the bad guys are spread out all over the place _and_ they're really hard to kill!" He grunted as something sparked, but didn't stop working. "Only two of _several_ problems I'm trying to solve simultaneously!"

"You said you could get this emitter working."

"And I can!" Rodney bit back. "But trust me – this is harder than it looks, it's building up a _lot_ of power, and you do _not_ want it to go off early!"

John kept his eyes on the field. "So many jokes," he muttered, "so little time."

"Oh, I am _so_ glad your juvenile sense of humor is intact!"

"_John!"_ Teyla shouted over the radio, and Sheppard could hear a slight echo as her real voice rang through the air. _"There are more Wraith converging on our position! We cannot hold them away from you for much longer!"_

"Almost done," Rodney said, brow furrowed in concentration. "I'm setting a five-second delay, so be ready to drop."

"Fall back! Stand by for my signal!" John said into his radio. "And try to draw them as close as possible – we don't know the range on this thing."

"Sheppard!" Ronon bellowed. "Watch your back!"

"I see 'em!" John raised his sidearm as three tall shapes – two drones and a male – seemed to materialize out of the darkness. "Now would be a good time, Rodney!"

"Just gimme a second!"

Sheppard placed himself between the physicist and the oncoming Wraith. One of the drones raised its stunner; John put a bullet in the middle of its facemask.

He immediately dodged to the side, but the remaining drone had already fired, and the blast grazed his hip. His entire left leg went numb and he crashed to the ground.

On the other side of the pillar, Sheppard could hear the intermingling of Teyla's rifle, Ronon's blaster, and more Wraith stunner fire as the Athosian and Satedan fended off their own attack. He saw more shadowy figures running toward them across the field.

John twisted onto his back, brought his gun out in front of him, and put a dozen bullets into the torso of the drone that had stunned him. When it finally fell, he turned the gun on the male, but only got off one shot before the chamber clicked on empty. The Wraith shrugged off the single bullet like it was a mosquito bite.

"McKay!" he roared, but the creature was already on him.

"I got it, I got it!" Rodney cried excitedly. "Sheppard, I –″ He turned in time to see the Wraith knock the colonel's empty pistol to the ground. "_Sheppard!_"

The Wraith grabbed John by his tac vest and hauled him upright. "Do it _now_, McKay!" he ordered, trying and failing to struggle out of the creature's grip.

"No! You –″ Rodney began.

"Ah!" Teyla's sharp cry rang through the air. Rodney turned in time to see the P-90 fall from her suddenly limp right arm as she stumbled to the ground.

"McKay!" Sheppard yelled again.

The male Wraith lifted John bodily into the air, snarling in the pale moonlight.

Rodney turned to the switch he had rigged. Images of the charred deer-creature flashed through his mind.

Ronon was still on his feet, still firing his blaster at anything that moved, but the rest of the Wraith were heading their way now, and the Satedan couldn't hold them off forever.

"_Now, Rodney!_" John ordered, but then the Wraith changed its grip, putting a clawed hand around the soldier's throat, and whatever he'd been going to say turned into a choking sound.

Rodney made his decision.

"Hit the deck!!!" he screamed at the top of his lungs, and then he threw the switch.

_Five,_ began the physicist's internal countdown.

Teyla flattened herself to the grass. Left-handed, she drew her sidearm and fired at the approaching Wraith. Most of her shots missed, but it was enough to make the monsters hesitate.

_Four_.

Ronon fired three more shots, then jerked backward, falling, as if he'd been hit with a stunner. He pressed himself to the ground and didn't move. The drones stopped shooting and approached him slowly.

_Three_.

John clutched at the hand around his neck, kicking out with his good leg, but he couldn't get any leverage. The Wraith ripped open the front of his tac vest and drew back its feeding hand.

A low hum began to vibrate the air, pulsing up through the ground.

_Two._

Rodney didn't know much about fighting. He didn't even know much about American football. But he did know that if enough torque were applied at a sufficient distance from an object's center of mass, that object would be forced to rotate.

And so McKay found himself hurtling toward the Wraith's knees in a full-out running tackle. He got a face full of black leather duster as they tumbled to the ground.

The humming grew louder as the defense net began to glow – and not just the emitter Rodney had rigged. Every single pole around the field shone with white-blue light.

_One._

John hit the dirt on his back. The impact knocked the wind from his lungs and sent him into a brutal coughing fit.

Rodney rolled away as fast as he could. He lay on his back and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to make himself as small as possible.

The Wraith leapt to its feet with preternatural quickness. The brightening light of the emitters cast its face in harsh shadows as it snarled at the physicist.

_Zero._

The night exploded.

---

Lying on his stomach, Ronon was powerless to help Sheppard. He saw him struggle with the Wraith; he saw how his team leader couldn't possibly break free and drop to the safety zone in time; he saw that he couldn't aim at this odd angle, and how any shot he took would hit John, too.

Ronon was convinced he was about to watch his friend die.

Then, out of nowhere, McKay plowed into the Wraith. The whiny, slow, infuriating physicist crashed right into the seven-foot snarling monster, and he did it without an ounce of hesitation. The trio fell to the ground, and Ronon had just enough time to see the Wraith leap to its feet before the defense net activated.

Ronon felt the blue wave of energy wash over him, and he closed his eyes as the light became a blinding glare. The air hummed and buzzed like a thousand insects mere inches above his head. Dimly, he heard an electric crackling mixed with enraged howls and screams.

And then, quite suddenly, it was all over. The air stopped vibrating and the field went dark. Ronon opened his eyes, waiting for the afterglow to fade. He flipped over onto his back and watched the stars above come slowly into view. Cautiously, he sat up and looked around.

The drones that had been firing at him lay on the ground, unmoving. Ronon thought they might have just been stunned – until he saw the wisps of smoke rising from their bodies. All across the field, even in the distance, the Satedan saw moonlight reflecting off patches of rising smoke, and the acrid smell of electrical burns began to tickle his nose.

Ronon stood up. "He did it," he muttered to himself. "The son of a bitch did it."

When he reached the pillar, Teyla was already there, helping Sheppard sit up.

"I'm fine," John was saying, kneading his fingers into his left thigh. "Just pins and needles now. Give it a minute."

"Teyla?" Ronon asked, nodding at the way she held her arm to her side. "You okay?"

"It is merely numb," she replied. "I will be fine in a moment."

"We need to get moving," John said. "Before the rest of them get here."

Ronon shook his head. "None left." He gestured to the grassland around them. "Whole field got fried."

Sheppard looked around to confirm the runner's statement. "McKay," he said, his tone both stern and incredulous at the same time, "what did you do?"

"I'm so glad you've finally decided to notice me," the physicist said from where he lay nearby. Ronon saw the control pendant, no longer glowing, clutched loosely in his hand. "I'm fine, by the way, thanks for asking."

Teyla rose and went to kneel by the scientist, helping him struggle into a sitting position. "We are very glad to hear it, Rodney," she said with a smile.

"Yeah," John said, "and thanks for . . ." He waved a hand in the direction of the Wraith that had attacked him. "I owe you one."

"Oh, well," McKay said awkwardly, looking wide-eyed at the dead creature, "not that you remember, but it was probably my turn anyways." He leaned forward and peered at the smoldering heap. "Geez, that doesn't look anything like the deer-thing I saw! Good thing I put it on full power; anything less might not have worked at all!" He shuddered.

"Is that what you did?" John asked. "Put it on full power?"

"Well, yes, of course," McKay replied. "That, and I made every emitter in the defense net activate at once."

The three teammates stared at him.

"You can do that?" Sheppard said. "You didn't say you could do that."

"Well, it was a rather ingenious last-minute idea, if I do say so myself."

Teyla smiled as she helped McKay stand. "Well done, Rodney."

"Yeah," Sheppard nodded, "good job."

"Good job? _Good job?_" Rodney said incredulously, arching his back and grimacing. "I pull off a nearly impossible stunt and that's all you can say? _Good job?_"

John shrugged. "Hey, from the way you were talking earlier, you do this kind of thing all the time." Ronon could see a smile tugging at the soldier's lips. "Just part of your job description, right?"

"Honestly, why do I even try?" McKay ranted. "It's like casting pearls before swine!" He huffed and straightened his shirt. "But I'll tell you what's _not_ in my job description: _back injury_. Thanks to all the heroics I've pulled today, I've probably permanently damaged my –″

Something clicked in Ronon's brain, and he quite suddenly found himself nose to nose with the physicist, who abruptly fell silent.

"Are you telling me," he growled, towering over McKay with a glare, "that you just saved all our lives _and_ took out over twenty Wraith," Ronon leaned closer, "and you're _still complaining?_"

Rodney's eyes went wide, but he didn't back down. "Um, yes?"

Ronon took a deep breath. Then, surprising even himself, a big grin split the runner's features, and he wrapped his arms around McKay, literally lifting the man into an enormous bear hug.

"Ack!" Rodney said as the air was squeezed from his lungs.

Ronon dropped McKay back to the ground and slapped his back as he tried to regain his balance.

"'s'good to have you back, McKay," Ronon said, still grinning.

"Yeah," Rodney said, panting and eyeing the Satedan warily. "Good to be back."

Sheppard suppressed a chuckle as he hauled himself to his feet, but Teyla laughed openly.

"Well, now that we've got _that_ out of the way," John said wryly, "why don't we –″

The ground beneath them lurched and everyone but Ronon was suddenly thrown off their feet.

"What is happening?" Teyla yelled as a rumbling sound filled the air.

"Earthquake?" John ventured. Another tremor rattled his teeth.

"Oh crap oh crap oh crap," Rodney chanted as he scrambled up. "We need to go, _now!_"

No one argued as they all began running for the Stargate.

"McKay?" John yelled, trying not to stumble as the ground beneath them continued to roll. "Care to share with the class?!"

"The self-destruct! It's not 'a dud!'" The physicist's disdain for John and Ronon's earlier assessment was clear even over the growing noise. "Emadara put it on a timer!" McKay spared a glance over his shoulder as he ran. "She wanted it to go off when the Wraith were investigating!"

John also looked back. They had cleared the defense net, and as he watched, the entire ring of poles began to fall in toward the center of the field.

"Move it!" he roared.

"John!" Teyla cried as she, too, glimpsed what the team leader saw.

"We are so screwed!" Rodney yelled, more a lament to the universe at large than to his teammates.

John was tempted to agree with him; as they ran, a line of destruction followed them, marking the expansion of a massive sinkhole as the huge underground facility that was the Reservoir fell in on itself.

The ground was literally falling away behind them.

"Don't stop!" Sheppard yelled. "Ronon! The 'gate!"

With barely a nod of acknowledgement, the Satedan was off, leaving them in the dust.

"Again with the running," Rodney panted, "why is it always running?!"

"Do not speak, Rodney!" Teyla said. "Conserve your oxygen!"

"A 'jumper! Didn't I say we should've brought a 'jumper? Why doesn't anyone ever _listen?!_"

"McKay! _Shut. Up._"

Sheppard could hear the sound of actual explosions as they came closer to the Stargate. A sudden flare of orange light cast their shadows in front of them, and John didn't have to look behind to realize that some of the self-destruct detonations were reaching all the way to the surface.

Ahead of them, Ronon reached the 'gate and began dialing. Sheppard spared another glance behind and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that the sinkhole had stopped expanding. The feeling was short-lived, however, as the ground shook again, and he saw the Stargate itself wobble on its dais in the light of the newly-formed wormhole.

"Go!" he yelled, waving at Ronon. "Go now!"

Ronon hesitated, waiting until he saw that his whole team had at least made it past the DHD. Teyla, a dozen paces in the lead, bounded up the steps and disappeared into the event horizon. When Ronon saw that both John and Rodney were on the steps, he followed her.

Without warning, John's left leg gave out, its muscles apparently deciding they hadn't quite shaken off the effects of the Wraith stunner.

"Sheppard!" Rodney yelled, pausing to look back as the pilot stumbled.

"Go!" John cried, but the physicist was already on his way back down. "I'm fine!"

"Right," Rodney grumbled, grabbing the colonel's arm, "I know you don't remember, but I _know_ you better than that."

The most violent tremor yet rattled the very air around them, and they hugged the stairs as the tremendous sound of cracking stone filled their ears.

The Stargate came loose from its supports. It wobbled dangerously, several tons of naquadah poised to crash to the quaking ground. Then, slowly, it began to tilt.

The blue surface rushed toward them.

"Oh, crap," Rodney said.

A few seconds later, Sheppard and McKay came hurtling headfirst into the Atlantis 'gate room, straight into the recently arrived Ronon and Teyla. The quartet crashed to the ground in a tangled heap as the wormhole behind them abruptly disengaged.

There was a moment of what John could only describe as stunned silence. Then someone gasped, and the whole 'gate room very nearly exploded in activity and noise.

"Well," McKay said as various personnel rushed to help the team extricate themselves, "let's never do that again. _Ever_."

***

**Epilogue**

"So, you remember most of the stuff we did together," McKay said, mouth full, "but there's like a – a _hole_ when it comes to actually remembering _me_?" He waved his spoon at his head.

Sheppard shrugged. "It's fuzzy," he said. "Like it's hard to think about."

"Huh." Rodney seemed deep in thought as he dug the spoon back into his pudding cup.

Teyla shifted in the infirmary chair, bouncing Torren on her knee as she tried to find a comfortable position. The baby kept grabbing at McKay's bed sheets and trying to climb onto the physicist's legs. "It is an odd feeling," she agreed. "I am glad it is only temporary."

"Just a couple weeks, right?" Rodney said, licking the last of the chocolate off the spoon. He stuck the utensil back in the cup and shoved it at Ronon. "I believe I'm ready for a refill."

The Satedan, lounging with his feet up on the end of Rodney's bed, responded with a level stare.

"I don't think you wanna push it, McKay," Sheppard said wryly. "The big guy brought you a 'peace offering' – just leave it at that."

Rodney sniffed, but brought the cup and spoon back to his lap. "Well, it's certainly not _my_ fault if certain people are feeling _guilty_ for the horrendous way they treated a certain teammate." He gestured with the spoon as if it were a royal scepter. "Not that those people _shouldn't_ feel guilty, of course, especially after that certain teammate saved certain people's lives – _multiple_ times over, I might add. And so if certain people want to make amends to certain teammates with chocolate pudding, especially after all that certain teammate had to put up with on the mission, all he had to put up with during the escape, all he had to put up with when –″

"I'll put that spoon up somewhere if you don't shut up," Ronon growled.

"Oh, see?!" McKay ranted as John and Teyla laughed. "Is that any way to talk to the man who removed your tracker scars?!"

Ronon furrowed his brow. "No way. That was you?"

Rodney nodded smugly, then whipped the spoon around to point at John. "Or the man who let you throw him off a balcony when we barely knew each other?!"

John's smile turned uncertain and he gave Ronon and Teyla a skeptical look. "He's pulling our legs . . ."

"Or the man who delivered Teyla's baby?!"

"Okay, now I _know_ you're making stuff up."

"Agitating my patient, are we?" Carson interrupted, cutting off McKay's rant. The physician gave them all a stern expression as he approached Rodney's bed, but his eyes were amused. "And what are we discussing now?"

"Rodney was telling us stories," Teyla said with a smile as she again foiled one of Torren's escape attempts.

"They're not 'stories'!" McKay squawked.

"Aye?" Carson asked with a gleam in his eye. "Has he told you the one where he was forced to kiss another man full on the mouth, then?"

John turned a devilish look on McKay. "Really," he said, the word not a question. "Don't think I've heard that one."

"Oh, now why would you bring that up?" Rodney said, glaring at the Scot. "_You've_ got as much to lose from that story as I do!"

"Aye," Carson said, shrugging nonchalantly, "but it obviously bothers you much more than me." He turned and gave Teyla a cheeky wink. "I was just the victim, after all."

"Okay, now _this_ I wanna hear," Sheppard said.

Rodney cleared his throat and suddenly became very interested in his empty pudding cup. "Ah, yes, well, maybe story time should be over for now." He tried to keep his face serious as his friends laughed. "So, what's the damage?" he asked gruffly, glaring at his still chuckling teammates.

Beckett sighed. "I'm afraid the memory device you described did have an effect," he said, sobering the mood quickly. "The bruising is similar to the rest of your team's."

"So it's temporary, right?" John asked.

"Aye."

"But Garrad said it was going to be permanent," McKay said, confused.

"Good thing I turned it off so quickly, huh?" Sheppard's expression was smug in the face of Rodney's withering glare.

Beckett ignored the exchange. "I expect you to regain your lost memories at about the same time the rest of your team does," he finished.

Rodney waved the spoon around again. "But I haven't lost any memories."

"That we know of," Carson corrected.

"_That we know of?!_"

"Don't worry about it, McKay," John said quickly. "If it were that important, we'd know about it already."

Rodney set the spoon down and shrugged, but he still looked unsettled.

"As part of your recovery," Beckett said, turning to include John, Ronon, and Teyla in his speech, "Doctor Hamri will be conducting psychological evaluations, so be prepared for at least one counseling session."

Ronon showed no reaction to the news, but John grimaced a little.

"Has Doctor Hamri received our mission reports?" Teyla asked, seemingly unaffected by the announcement. "I was wondering if she would be able to explain Emadara's behavior."

"What's to explain?" Rodney asked incredulously. "She went whacko. End of story."

Beckett looked apologetically at Teyla. "She did go on about it for a while, but I'm afraid the whole subject is a bit outside my bailiwick." He grimaced. "Something about repression and coping mechanisms. I think the word 'oedipal' may have been used."

"Well, what can you do," McKay said dismissively. "Psychology is even more voodoo than regular medicine." He ignored Carson's exasperated look.

Teyla sighed and again shifted Torren away from the bed. "I simply do not understand how a rational woman could so quickly lose all her reason." She frowned. "So much so that she would destroy all the scientists who worked with her."

"Actually," Rodney said, grimacing, "I've been thinking about that. I don't think she really meant to kill the scientists."

"Got them culled," Ronon said, a simple statement of fact.

"Yeah, but she and her Whisperers got culled, too," McKay said, leaning forward. "She might have been bonkers, but I don't think she was _stupid._"

"You think she wanted to get on the hive ship," Sheppard said evenly, crossing his arms. "That was her plan all along."

"Exactly!" The spoon was in the air again. "If it worked, then she and her Whisperers might have already taken over that hive ship! And," he said, jabbing with the utensil for emphasis, "she's probably got all those scientists in stasis, ready to use for . . . whatever the hell she's got planned."

Carson looked to the team in alarm. "Well if that's true, we need to bloody stop her!"

John ran a hand through his hair. "Can't," he said. "Not yet, anyways. The 'gate on Valeria was destroyed. We have to wait a week for the Daedalus to get here before we can go find out what happened."

"And see if any Reservoir technology survived," McKay insisted.

Beckett frowned at the bad news before a nurse's call turned his head. "Ah," the doctor said, nodding to the team, "if you'll excuse me." He left in the direction of the voice.

There was a moment of silence during which McKay picked up, put down, and again picked up his empty pudding cup.

"You don't have to stay," he suddenly blurted, not making eye contact with any of his team. "I . . . I'm fine."

Sheppard leaned back and mirrored Ronon's position, putting his feet on the bed. "Yeah, we know," he said laconically.

"We are glad to keep you company," Teyla said with a smile. Torren gurgled and put a tiny fist in his mouth.

Rodney looked at Ronon. The former runner had[E1] put his hands behind his head and closed his eyes, as if he were going to take a nap.

"I'm not getting you more pudding."

John and Teyla laughed. "Well, fine, then," Rodney said, though his cheeks were pinking with pleasure. "You can stay – _if_ you promise to believe my stories."

"No problem," John said. His grin widened. "_Meredith._"

Rodney's look of surprise turned into a scowl. "All right," he said in disgust, "who told you?!"

"Zelenka," Sheppard chuckled. "He's busy now, but we talked to him while you were getting scanned."

"He was most helpful in preparing us for the rescue mission," Teyla said, smiling.

"Yeah, well, he's gonna be getting cold showers for the next month," Rodney muttered. "Where did you say he was again?"

"Down in the labs. He –″

"No no no," McKay waved, "what department? Who's his supervisor?"

Teyla paused the bouncing of her knee and looked up at the scientist. Ronon opened his eyes and stared.

John swung his feet off the bed and very suddenly leaned forward. "What did you say, McKay?"

"This Zelunka guy," Rodney said, annoyed. "Or whatever you called him. Is he science? Medical? What?"

John and Ronon looked at each other, eyebrows raised in disbelief. Teyla stared at McKay in astonishment, mouth slightly open. Torren took advantage of his mother's distraction to seize another handful of bed sheets.

Rodney had apparently decided there was more pudding to be had and was scraping his spoon around the inside of the cup. "Seriously," he said, popping the utensil into his mouth and speaking around it, "who's Zelunka?"

**The End**


End file.
